


Disney Storybits

by dixiemame33



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Disney Cartoons (Classic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:24:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiemame33/pseuds/dixiemame33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A growing collection of drabbles and unfinished scenes of future stories,all involving the Sensational Six and others. Each 'chapter' is a new universe to explore,from genies to witches,romance and laughs,with Mickey and the gang in all new adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. scheherazade

  
Welcome to Disney Storybits, where I put up drabbles and unfinished scenes of Disney stories I'd like to write in full some day. With every storybit, I'll put up the backstory and explanations behind what's going on in the description, and feel free to ask any questions.  
  
  
This storybit is about...  
  
We open on an Arabian kingdom, where prince Mickey is celebrating his birthday with his pet dog Pluto, as he rides his birthday present from his mother – a flying carpet. As he flies through the kingdom, we learn that his mother is THE Scheherazade, the famous woman who used stories to delay her execution. When Mickey returns from his trip, he finds his parents have been kidnapped. Pete, his royal adviser, says that the evil Phantom Blot is holding them hostage in a haunted Kingdom far away. Mickey vows to go and save his parents, leaving Pete in charge in his absence. As the journey begins, he finds a strange flying pirate ship, with captain Sinbad, Goofy, on board.  
  
Sinbad knows Scheherazade quite well, and it turns out that many, if not all, of her stories may be true! Goofy and his crew decide to help Mickey out, taking him on board and heading toward the haunted kingdom. They stop for supplies, and Goofy wants to take a break and watch a magic show by the Magnificent Mortimer. Mickey chides him, saying they have more important things to do, until he catches site of Moritmer's beautiful assistant, Minnie, and thus becomes very eager to watch the show, even becoming a volunteer for one show. Mortimer's show is pretty amazing, though he tends to start a lot of his tricks with 'I Wish', and never does the same trick twice. Mickey befriends Minnie after the show, though soon learns Mortimer has been stealing from this town.  
  
The pirates confront Mortimer in his private home, but Mortimer keeps defeating them with his magic acts. Mickey discovers that only if he says 'I wish' can he use magic, so he manages to gag Mortimer and tie him up, stopping him. The townspeople thank Mickey for saving them, and insist that Mickey take something for himself as payment. Mickey settles on a lamp, since his old one is broken, and for some reason this drives Mortimer into a frenzy. Mickey rubs the lamp, as it has some dust on it, and Minnie starts glowing! Golden cuffs leave Mortimer's wrists, and latch themselves onto Mickey's, with his name inscribed. Mortimer gets the gag off, frantically telling Minnie to obey him, but Minnie simply says he is no longer her master. She then kneels before Mickey, saying she is a genie, and that Mickey is her master. She begins going into the rules, but the townspeople become greedy, wanting the genie, so Goofy scoops up the mice, taking them back to the ship and sailing off.  
  
They find out Minnie can't perform the same wish twice, and Mickey decides that after he saves his parents, he'll wish for her freedom. Minnie highly doubts this, though she does begin to fall for him, constantly calling him Master though he insists on her calling him by name. Later on in their journey, they come across a kingdom where everyone absolutely hates their prince, calling him a plague on their houses, but they are duty bound to him. Mickey goes to the prince to ask for help, and the prince is Donald, a pretty nice guy, but everyone abandons and hates him because, since birth, he has been cursed – the weather in the immediate area is affected by whatever mood he is in. Whenever he is angry, for example, expect a bad storm. Goofy decides to do him a 'kindness', 'kidnapping' him so he can be among real friends.  
  
They make a stop at a bar to grab some info, where it turns out Sinbad is EXTREMELY popular with the ladies (it's how he gets his info), much to the boys shock. Even bigger a shock is that he is married, to a woman 'the color of the moon'. Through the women, they learn that Pete has become a tyrannical leader, claiming Mickey and his parents are dead. Daisy also joins the group, a former fangirl of Goofy's, but is also a master of animals (snakes especially) and poisons, deciding to become Donald's fangirl instead. The gang makes it to the haunted kingdom, where the Blot once ruled, but because he was such a bad tyrant, everyone left! He thought Scheherazade would help restore his kingdom to glory, but she refuses to help out – and it also turns out Blot and Pete are working together, so Pete can rule Mickey's kingdom.  
  
The gang rush in , but Blot grabs Mickey's lamp, becoming Minnie's new owner. He uses her to defeat the gang, and put them in the dungeons, where Mickey is reunited with his parents. Pete (who happens to be there via a magic portal, as Blot uses some weak dark magic occasionally), deciding Minnie is pretty enough to make a bride, lies to her and tells her Mickey has been executed. Stunned, Minnie begins to cry... and the palace explodes! Earthquakes shatter the land! Fireworks go off! Flames shoot out! As the dungeon crumbles, the gang makes it out, finding the knocked out bodies of Blot and Pete. Scheherazade sees the crying girl, and Mickey remembers the rules that Minnie had been trying to explain to him long ago – one of them was 'never make a genie cry.' Scheherazade says it's because a genie's tears are full of uncontrollable magic, and that they should escape before they're all killed.  
  
Mickey doesn't want to leave Minnie behind and break his promise, so he gets on his flying carpet, heading right into the danger zone. He leaps off, and kisses Minnie, snapping her out of her sobs, and the magic barrage finally stops. He wishes for her freedom, the cuffs fall off and the lamp disintegrates, and she becomes a mortal girl. The gang returns to Goofy's ship, intending to go home, and live happily ever after.  
  
For this scene, the gang has defeated Mortimer, and the villagers wish for Mickey to take one of Mortimer's treasures as a thank you gift.

* * *

 

 

... It still felt uncomfortable to take something that had once belonged to someone else, but the citizens were staring at him with a strange kind intensity, it would be impossible to refuse further. But what could he possibly need? He had his blade, his flying carpet, and Sinbad was sure to provide for anything else. He shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable... until his eyes laid upon the lamp.  
  
That tiny golden lamp, on a pedestal in the middle of the room, as if it was the most important item there. An odd place to put a glorified candle, but it was the best option for now. He didn't have one in the flying boat, and he could use it for any late-night reading and research. "I guess I'll take that." He announced, and began to walk straight towards the pedestal.  
  
In an instant, the bound Mortimer went frantic. He struggled to move, and his gagged mouth went into muffled screams. Sinbad gave him a slap upside the head in an effort to silence him, but the rat continued to freak. He kicked about, toward Minnie's general direction - her own eyes had grown wide, startled, staring at Mickey as he approached the small object. Was she holding her breath?  
  
Mickey delicately lifted the lamp into his hands, and frowned - how dusty. It hadn't been touched in ages. Why steal a lamp if you were never going to use it? "Geez, would you look at this?" He began to rub his arm against the lamp, in an effort to clean it -  
  
And the world turned pink.  
  
The lamp had seemed to explode, shaking and shivering, its top clattering against the rim, with pink smoke exhaling out of every orifice. Sparkles and fireworks flew out of the tip, creating dazzling effects in the air. The lamp whistled and whined, the ground shook, and several of the robbed citizens fled for their lives. Sinbad was so distracted by the light display that his grip on Mortimer loosened - enough so that the rat could slip his arms free, and ripped the gag out of his mouth - and in the same instant, the golden cuffs on his wrists turned to ashes, swirling in a small sandstorm, flying through the air until they met Mickey's wrists, and became cuffs once more, emblazoned with names - Micheal and Minerva.  
  
Mortimer got to his feet, shoving Sinbad aside, his voice screeching in his desperation. "I wish - I wish - I wish - "He couldn't even make up his mind in his absolute panic.  
  
Minnie finally 'noticed' him, and turned her head back ever so slightly. Her face was that of haughty, with flat eyes and a voice caked in sheer loathing. "I no longer serve you... Mortimer." The first time anyone in the area had ever heard her address him by name. Mortimer made a grab for her, but Sinbad had collected his senses, and the smack upside the head this time was far stronger, enough to knock the rat out.  
  
The elaborate light show appeared to be slowing down and stopping, and Minnie began to flounce over to Mickey, a light spring in her step. The lamp settled into silence, and the girl knelt before the prince, hands on her thighs, and head bowed in submission. "I am the genie of the lamp." Her voice was light, airy, but also seemed a bit... disengaged. As if she had given this speech a million times before, and so had lost the heart of it long ago. "As of today, I am your obedient servant, Prince Micheal, my master."  
  
"... What?" was all he could make out in response, looking down at her. All eyes - citizen and pirate alike - were watching the exchange, looking just as surprised as Mickey was.  
  
"Use me as you wish." She placed a hand to her chest. "For your wishes are my command. I can not disobey, but I can not perform the same wish twice."  
  
"... What?" he repeated.  
  
"Merely command me with the words 'I wish', and my magic is yours to use."  
  
Mickey had been about to repeat himself again, but at once, everything clicked in everyone's minds - Why Mortimer had always used 'I wish' for every magic act, for every theft, for nearly single action he did that seemed impossible. He had been using a genie? Mickey looked at Sinbad, as if for confirmation, who was merely scratching his noggin in contemplation. So Mickey returned his face back to Minnie - who was suddenly much, much closer, on her feet, with barely any space between their noses. His entire face turned a deep scarlet at having such a lovely vision that near.  
  
"There are many rules to follow, master." Her voice had gotten a bit deeper, and her eyelashes fluttered at him. Years of experience had taught her that male masters preferred her to be... 'friendly' in the beginning.  
  
"Mas - now wait a - " Mickey's words caught in his throat.  
  
"SHE'S A GENIE!" A voice screeched from the crowd of citizens. "Why in the sands should HE get her?!" And at once, the crowd agreed, their once kind looks now twisted in greed.  
  
"We deserve her, after everything Mortimer put us through!"  
  
"Yeah, she belongs to us!"  
  
"Get 'er!"  
  
Sinbad put a few fingers in his mouth, and whistled high. "Time to go, lads!"  
  
Movement was everywhere - the citizens were racing after the mice, the pirates were scooping up the stolen goods and making runs back to the ship, and Sinbad took it upon himself to leap, grab a mouse in each hand, hitch them over his shoulders, and chase after his crew.


	2. s.s. disney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This storybit is about...
> 
> Welcome to the S. S. Disney, a flying opera-house ship with all female actresses, where our hero Mickey is one of many engineers, constantly repairing the ship. But he has his inventions he wants to make! One day as newcomers board to watch the show, he loses a locket that belonged to his father, losing it in the crowd... mostly because he was distracted by watching a very pretty mouse-girl come on board. She's a rich socialite who actually wants to become an actress for the ship. But during her audition, space pirates attack, led by Peg-Leg Pete! It's around that time that Mickey finishes his latest invention, a flying hoverboard (ala the thing the kid rides in Treasure Planet) and helps defeat the pirates. Minnie returns the locket she found, becoming instantly smitten with him.
> 
> For this scene, Minnie the actress tries to seduce Mickey the clueless mechanic.

Mickey knocked on the door - 'shave and a haircut, two bits' - and at once he heard Minnie's melodic voice from within, inviting him inside. Only a few moments ago, Mickey had been making blue prints for another invention - a device that would render garbage disposal a thing of the past- when one of his superiors informed him of Minnie's work order complaint, that her heater was on the fritz. Normally he would be annoyed at such an interruption, but for Minnie, it was different. Something about her was just unique from all the other actresses, though it was difficult to pinpoint just what so far. So, with toolbox in hand, he opened her door, and walked inside.  
  
Despite having only arrived within two weeks, her room was already 'hers', decorated in treasures from home, with pictures of her family, a closet of clothes, little toy animals and books stacked to high heaven. What caught his eyes was the large, folded paper wall, with paintings of exotic birds all over, and, if he tilted his head just right, he could see Minnie's faint silhouette. From what he could make out, she was laying down on a windowsill, brushing her hair, holding a mirror in her other hand, and, straining his head further, the outline of her little legs could be determined... bare little legs...  
  
"Sorry to bother you." Minnie's voice came, jarring the male mouse of his stupor.  
  
He blushed deeply, and retreated to the heater, mentally chiding himself for the stare. "N-No problem! It's my job." He stammered, trying to pretend nothing had happened. "So what's wrong with the heater?" Kneeling down, he opened his red toolbox, waiting to hear the problem so he could pick the right tools.  
  
There was a faint sigh. "It just won't turn down. It gets far too warm in here, I feel like I'm in a sauna." It was an absolute lie - nothing was wrong with the heater... not for lack of trying. She'd struck the darn thing with one of her suitcases six times, and nothing happened, save for wrecking a perfectly good suitcase. Fortunately, as she heard metal clink and clatter, he was getting to work. Hopefully it would take some good, long time before he realized he had no work.  
  
On the other side of the paper wall, Minnie carefully went through her long hair once again, making sure everything was absolutely perfect. She had let it all down, letting it rest past her shoulders. Casting a quick look down at herself, she marveled at how wearing one of these suffocating corsets had finally come in handy - it was apple red, with black strings tightly bound. The rest of her outfit, if one could call it that, matched accordingly, with red lace panties and frilled red socks. And that was all she had on, unless one counted the fresh lipstick she was now applying, practicing kissy faces with it.  
  
If someone had told her merely a month ago that she'd be dolling herself up to woo a mechanic she'd only known for some odd days, she would have helped that person back to the insane asylum. Alas, she noted, love and insanity seemed to go hand in hand. Maybe this idea of hers was crazy, but she felt she was crazy in love - and this sort of thing worked perfectly well in her Harlequin romance novels. They had to be based off of some reality, right? The dashing, heroic lower-class worker being seduced by the charms of the upper-class but forbidden socialite...  
  
She exhaled deeply as she let her imagination roam, pressing her mirror close to her chest, and laying down on the sill, among her fluffy pillows. It was impossible to forget the images in her memory of Mickey fighting off those dreadful pirates, back on the first day she had arrived. Armed with nothing but a wrench, and then using his flying machine to knock them overboard... no wonder the other actresses were enamored with him. She felt it hard believe Jessica's warnings, about Mickey's 'cluelessness towards females'. Why, they simply weren't trying hard enough, they didn't love him like Minnie did. And if Mickey could ignore the get-up Minnie was in...  
  
No, no, best not to think of something so impossible. This was absolutely going to work. She lifted her mirror to look at her face, and smirked, then smiled, and practiced other expressions - the right face had to go with the right outfit. There was no doubt about it, once he got his eyes on her, he wouldn't be able to get his hands off her, and she'd 'protest' at first - Oh, Mickey, we shouldn't! We mustn't! - but that would only make him want her more, and then they'd have a passionate, heated affair, and no doubt her father would object to it greatly, which would only make it sweeter, and then after every show Mickey would wait in her room to 'congratulate' her on her performance, and all the other girls would be so terribly jealous and try to ensnare him, but he'd reject them, oh yes, he'd proclaim his love only for her, and then they'd have a lovely wedding, with white flowers and lace, and she'd have daughters, and -  
  
"Miss Minnie?"  
  
She nearly dropped her mirror in surprise, jerking up into a sitting position. "Huh?"  
  
"You sure it's the heater that's not working right?" He sounded deeply confused. "'Cause everything seems to be just fine."  
  
Goodness - she hadn't expected him to work so fast! "Uh... no, no, I'm very sure it's the heater!" She squeaked, and tried to get to her feet.  
  
A pause on his end, and he shrugged. "All right... lemme look at it again."  
  
She was going to have to get him now. She emptied her hands, smoothed down the corset, and began making dainty little steps, until her head poked around the wall. His back was to her, scratching his head in puzzlement. She traced the outline of the wall, giving a little purr, hoping it sounded just right. "See, I must be  _so_  certain its the heater, because it's so  _dreadfully_  warm in here..."  
  
"Feels fine to me."  He was twisting a few gears here and there, determined to find the problem, oblivious to the tone being used towards him.  
  
Slight irritation in her, but she persisted, stepping out a little more."Really? I hope I'm not coming down with something... I'm just so  _terribly warm_ , I feel like I'm  _burning_  up..."  
  
"The doctor's probably free around now." Twist the gear, twist the gear.  
  
 _Turn around, darn you!_  Her lips twitched, suppressing the urge to yell that at him. Perhaps Jessica's point had been valid. "Maybe..." An over-exaggerated sigh, and she turned around, holding herself, facing the doorway." But I think you could help me out..." She opened her eyes...  
  
... and there in the doorway stood Jessica Rabbit, eyes locked on Minnie, with a clearly disapproving look.  
  
 _Uh-oh._  
  
The older woman bent over, and casually pushed Minnie right back behind the wall, causing the little one to yelp. Mickey glanced behind him, eyebrows raised at the extra visitor. "Mrs. Rabbit?"  
  
Up straight, she jabbed a thumb behind her. "There's a malfunction with the castle stage set. Yen wants you to look at it."  
  
He stood up, collecting his tools. "Right now? But Miss Minnie's heater-"  
  
"I'll get another guy to look at it." She cut through his words. "This is a priority."  
  
"Wait a minute!" Minnie, who now had managed to collect her senses after falling on her pillows, shrieked, trying to get up.  
  
"Sorry, Miss Minnie." He headed off to the door. "Yen Sid's order's come first." And before Minnie could object any further, he was gone. She stared at the open door, and then stormed out from behind the wall, glaring daggers at the interrupter.  
  
Jessica wasn't fazed, pointing a finger at her. "I'm not having any pregnant actors on this ship."  
  
"You're horrid!"  
  
"And that shade of lipstick is terrible on you."  
  
"We weren't going to do anything!"  
  
"Now that's acting." She left, and the door slammed shut. In retaliation, Minnie shrieked again, and threw several pillows at the door in sheer frustration. Once she had run out of the puffy arsenal, she huffed, and sat back down, lamenting her bad luck. Just a few minutes longer, surely, and the mice would have had their own private performance.  
  
Though she now understood why none of these rooms had locks.


	3. fake wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one doesn't have as long a description as the past two. Essentially, Magica's family [Granny, Samson Hex, Witch Child, Rosalio] comes to see her, and remind her of a deal she made - if she tried to get Scrooge's dime for 5 years and didn't get it by the end of the 5 years, she'd marry the goose Rosalio. Daisy, wanting to help, convinces Magica and Scrooge to pretend they are engaged to make the family go away. From there, things spiral wildly out of control.
> 
> These storybits are loosely connected and follow no straight linear timepath so don't worry about that.

The only sounds filling the gigantic dining room were that of clinking silverware, and chewed food. To the left side of the table were Magica's family... Granny sipping her wine contemplatively, eying Scrooge, with Poe on her shoulder offering sympathetic looks to his sister. Witch Child occasionally hummed, enjoying mushing the fancy food together to create new concoctions. Samson Hex's fork nervously tapped against the plate, too nervous from the tension to even think of eating. Rosalino was also looking at Scrooge, but his look contained more anger than curiosity, glaring daggers at the man who 'stole' his woman.  
  
To the right side of the table were Scrooge's family. The triplets were hiding their vegetables under their napkins,exchanging glances with themselves and Webbigail, who easily enough entered into a staring contest with Witch Child (and lost.) Daisy was the only one smiling, doing her best to try and lift the spirits, often complimenting on how delicious the food was. Donald was clearly struggling to keep his beak closed, chest shaking with suppressed laughter at the entire situation.  
  
To one of the table were Duckworth and Ms. Beakly, ready to serve more food at a moment's notice, but also looking for ways to escape this clearly awkward situation. At the other end of the table were the 'happy' couple, matched in their miserable expressions. Scrooge was doing his best to ignore the looks on him, cutting so hard into his beef that his plate began to suffer damage. Magica was swirling yet another sugar cube into her tea, do doubt by now more sugar than actual tea.  
  
Suddenly, Granny lifted her head, arms crossed. "I've just noticed something, dearie."  
  
Magica raised the cup to her beak. "Enlighten me."  
  
"We've been here for an entire week... and I have yet to see you kiss your future husband."  
Magica spat out what little tea was in her mouth, Scrooge's knife split his plate, Rosalino dropped his utensils, Donald burst out into hysterical laughter, Donald elbowed Daisy in the ribs, and now all eyes were locked on the 'couple'. When the noise had settled, Magica and Scrooge looked at each other for the briefest of moments before returning Granny's attention.  
  
"That's... that's..." Magica hesitated for the right words. "That's personal!"  
  
Granny merely smirked. "Is it? I've seen Donald and Daisy do it six times these past few days, and they're only dating."  
  
Donald promptly shut up, and Daisy rubbed her temples. Scrooge attempted to retaliate. "We're not very 'in' to public displays of affection."  
  
"Is that so." Rosalino cut in, hands gripping the table. "If I were in your shoes, I'd never stop kissing her! If I wasn't some fiance-stealing crook, I'd kiss her right now!" He hissed. "But I'm a gentleman."  
  
Scrooge grumbled deep in his throat, and looked to Daisy, clearly demanding some aide. She seemed to shrink in her seat a little from his intensity. "W-Well, uh... you just haven't been here long enough! Give them the right time and place, and they smooch up a storm, let me tell you." This was met with gags from the triplets, and Donald shoving bread into his mouth to keep from laughing all over again.  
  
"I don't see anything wrong with this time and place." Granny replied, eyes never leaving her granddaughter. "Is asking for a kiss really such a difficult demand?"  
  
"You're ruining a perfectly nice dinner." Magica glowered, standing up, chair pushed back. "All you ever do is demand things! You can't ever believe, you always need proof!" Scrooge had fallen silent at this point, in thought.  
  
"You don't find it strange that a couple never kisses? I've barely seen you hold hands."  Granny reached behind her to pat Poe's head. "Isn't that right, Poe?"  
  
Poe was ready to molt from the eyes Magica was giving him. "Uh... w-well... that is... oh, wow, that ham looks delicious, is anyone else going to have a slice?"  
  
"What do I have to do to convince you, and get you out of my life, you horrid woman!" Magica screeched, slamming her palms down on the table. "Do I have to throw a parade about how much I love him? Write a novel about all of our affairs? I told you I'd get married, so I'm getting married, you're never satis-"  
  
The next instant was a blur in Magica's mind when she would recall it later on. The 'blur' was Scrooge ever so calmly getting out of his seat, and then, with all the speed of a cheetah, placing his hands on her cheeks, fingers just about in her hair, and pressing his beak to hers as deeply as possible.  
  
Simultaneously, everyone's jaws dropped - save for Donald, who had fallen backwards onto the floor, nearly in pain due to how much he was laughing. Magica's entire face had gone redder than the wine in Granny's cup, her body unable to move, frozen in place. She didn't even appear to be breathing. Was she even aware that they had become the center of attention? Her wide eyes didn't seem to be looking at Scrooge, but off, in the distance, trying to pinpoint some place of coherent thought, like she couldn't decide what to do or think. Time had gone still for her.  
  
Then, slowly, to the note of everyone, her eyes lost that distance, and her muscles relaxed. Her eyelashes fluttered, before settling on closing completely, accepting, or pleased, or both, accepting the strange pleasure this was bringing about in her. The color faded from her cheeks, though it was eternal in doing so. Just as quickly as it had started, it was ending, as Scrooge's hands left her face, and he pulled away from her face. Their eyes opened, and it was impossible to tell what they were 'telling' each other in those looks. Promptly, Scrooge sat back down, adjusted his spectacles, and dabbed his beak with a napkin, as if nothing had happened at all. "Duckworth, I think we're all ready for some dessert."  
  
"... Yes, sir." He was just grateful to leave the room for a few precious seconds.  
  
The eldest duck looked to Granny. "Satisfied?"  
  
Granny didn't reply, but managed to close her mouth. She did, however, clear her throat, trying to get Magica's attention. As for Magica, she was still standing, eyes still transfixed, giving the impression she was half asleep. When she sat down, it was with certainly less finesse than Scrooge, loudly plopping down, nearly falling over, as if she'd been struck by lightning. Scrooge caught the entire spectacle, and couldn't help but wear a prideful little smile. He still had it.  
  
"And that's when they're in public!"Daisy chirped.  
  
[later that day]  
  
"What in all hells was that?!" Magica screeched at Scrooge, once they were alone in his bedroom, ready to settle for the night.  
  
Scrooge was buttoning his nightshirt, rolling his eyes at the tantrum. "If I didn't do that, they'd never shut up."  
  
"You couldn't have warned me?" She sat on the bed, kicking her feet to show off her displeasure.  
  
"What couple do you know that warns the other before they kiss?" He placed his nightcap on his head, and turned to her. "If you want this charade to work, we're going to have to be a lot more..." He shuddered to say it. "...affectionate, when your family is around."  
  
Magica groaned, clutching herself, feeling her skin crawl, and leaned on a bed post. "Disgusting... why can't they just get back on their brooms and go home!"  
  
She began to ramble once more about how much she hated her family, and so Scrooge tuned out,used to the rant. Would it kill her to be quiet for more than two minutes? He shook his head, reminding himself that all these headaches would be worth it. Soon enough, he'd be rid of her, and would actually be able to relax for a while. He rubbed his spectacles with his fingers, in a cheap attempt to clean them. Yes, soon, he'd be able to relax, and he'd have this entire room sanitized to get rid of any sign that she was ever there, that she was ever on his bed, in his bed...  
  
... Get rid of any sign that he ever kissed her, that he ever held her, that he ever ran his fingers through that black hair that seemed to pool over with such soft and silky tenderness that he could it for ages, that he ever pressed her delicate frame to his own body to feel her heart beat rapidly against his chest, that he ever looked into those deep eyes that never really reflected him but instead had their own cosmos of stars glittering inside to pull him in and never let go...  
  
She flopped on the bed, sighing heavily, perhaps unaware that her thin nightgown was riding up past her long shapely legs. "Well?" She turned her head to him, some of her hair falling down her face. "What are you waiting for?"  
  
His heart leaped into his throat - she surely didn't mean that. "What?!"  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Turn off the lights, I want to sleep already."  
  
Oh. Right. Yes. Lights. Surely. That and nothing else. Dammit, she was getting to him. "Don't go around demanding things, free-loader." But the spectacles came off, the lights came off, and the ducks were soon enough both in bed, as far apart from each other as possible, as per the norm.  
  
Once again, they had something in common - both remained wide awake, thinking over the day.  
  
~*~  
  
Granny DeSpell flipped a page, and, ignoring her granddaughter's protests, continued to show off the old photos of their past and homeland, with the triplets pestering with questions. Scrooge continued to check his watch, waiting for the moment he could be free and attend to his work, instead of listening to nonsense he couldn't care less about. It wasn't until Louie said the following that curiosity finally reached him.  
  
"Say, is that Magica?" The duckling prodded one photo. "She looks so different!"  
  
All eyes went to that photo, and it was a general agreement that there were differences between the Magica of the present, and her in the photo. Aside from years younger, the photo showed her in a brilliant red dress that appeared to be swaying off her, a fresh rose placed within her hair, her hands waving about in jubilation, and, perhaps strangest of all, looking happy not for reasons of malice or misfortune upon others. Just an actual, pure happiness for whatever she was doing. She didn't appear to be aware her photo was being taken, dancing in the crowded street, attracting the eyes of many young fellows in the background.  
  
"Ah, yes, that's her during one of our Romanian festivals." Granny chuckled lightly, pulling the photo out of the book. "It happened to fall on her birthday that year, so we splurged and celebrated as best we could. She had quite a fetch of suitors back then!"  
  
Present Magica had burning cheeks, arms crossed, refusing to look at the group. "Are we quite done here?"  
  
"What are you being so bitter over?" Granny clicked her tongue. "It's a nice photo. And you should dress like this more often. All of that black is so depressing."  
  
"No one would want to see me in that." A roll of her eyes from the sorceress.  
  
As the argument rolled on, Scrooge kept his eyes on the photo, and found himself, as always, disagreeing with Magica.  
  
~*~  
  
The overture hadn't even begun yet, so the ducks knew a long night was ahead of them. Scrooge irritably tapped an arm rest, glancing over at his 'future wife'. "When, exactly, is your grandmother going to stop insisting on these bonding moments?"  
  
Magica didn't even look at him, eyes ahead, bills rubbing together in a frustrated grind. "I don't like this anymore than you do."  
  
The third in the row, however, was not as agitated, as the goose rubbed his hands together in excitement. "Isn't this exciting, Magica? When was the last time we got to see a play together?"  
  
"If I recall correctly, never." Magica leaned back into her seat, sighing. She would preferred sitting next to anyone - blabbermouth Daisy, annoying Donald, busybody Granny, ANYBODY, but, no, there was Rosalino, gazing at her in a sickening wave of love while making several attempts to touch her hand.  
  
These attempts did not go unnoticed by Scrooge, raising an eyebrow at the other male. "Rather unlike a gentleman to try and hold a married woman's hand."  
  
Rosalino now looked at the elder, love turning into hate. "Rather unlike a gentleman to try and steal a fiance. I still haven't forgiven you, and I never will."  
  
"My heart breaks." Scrooge rolled his eyes. They both went on to ignore the woman's groans.  
  
"I'd be surprised if you had a heart, underneath all that ice and money!" The goose hissed, crossing his arms in indignation. "What do you have that I can't give her?"  
  
"Money."  
  
"Besides that."  
  
"Power."  
  
"Besides that."  
  
"Respect for her personal space."  
  
"Besi - hey!"  
  
Magica straightened up for a moment to see if the other families were nearby. Why was she suffering alone? Rosalino was relentless, continuing on despite the fact the orchestra had begun playing the overture. "I've known her forever! I understand her better than anyone! You just want her for her beauty!"  
  
Scrooge, at least, had managed to lower his voice, so he wouldn't shout over the music. "And yet, despite all that, I'm the one she's marrying."  
  
"Just admit." Rosalino narrowed his eyes, and pointed an accusatory finger at his enemy. "You've got a hold on her, don't you? Blackmail, threats, you're forcing her to do this! A man like you treats women like another dollar!"  
  
Scrooge didn't reply so easily this time. Not out of lack of answers, but the sheer idea that he did not treat women well - he, who loved his mother, who loved his sisters, who had all but adopted Webbigail, who always lifted a finger to aide Daisy - was something he would not take lying down. The duck and goose almost appeared to enter a staring contest of anger, and then, the richer one cleared his throat. "Magica?"  
  
"What now." A bitter snap.  
  
His arm extended out and around her shoulders, and suddenly, she was pushed in close, her head on his shoulder. Keeping her pinned there with his elbow, he began running his fingers through her hair, being careful not to create any knots. "Is that more comfortable for you, darling?"  
  
Two birds went a bright red. Magica, her cheeks with embarrassment, mouth agape in sheer shock. Rosalino, his entire face, a fury that was struggling to be capped. Scrooge happily smirked at his opponent, before returning his false attentions to his bride, using his free hand to take one of hers, and run a thumb over the top of it. As for Magica herself, her voice was a desperate whisper. "Scrooge, what do you think you're doing!"  
  
"Just enjoying myself." He held up her hand to kiss the knuckles, and then was back to addressing Rosalino. "She does like it when you touch her hair, right? You are the expert and all, having spent, what did you say, 'forever' with her?"  
  
"Scrooge!" Magica squirmed, but he wasn't letting her go anytime soon.  
  
"What? It's an innocent question." McDuck desired a camera, just to catch Rosalino's expression, perhaps make a game out of all the veins that were popping. "And maybe I could ask him for advice about you, since you two used to be fond of one another. Or was that just him?"  
  
"Leave me out of your idiotic jealous fists, you miserable old miser!" Was she shaking? She was definitely shaking, fully aware that several of the playgoers were ignoring the stage, preferring the performance going on within those three seats instead.  
  
"For example!" Scrooge let go of her hand, stopping the hair action to support her back, and tilted her beak up with his fingers. "Perhaps you can tell me, Rosalino, my good man, exactly what way our darling Magica prefers being kissed?"  
  
The straw broke on the camel's back, and Rosalino stood up in his seat, roaring, throwing off his hat, and reaching for his magic wand - and, with a single THWACK from Granny's purse - what do you know, the rest of the families just so happened to be right behind the trio - he was down and out, a knocked out mess on the floor. Seconds of awkward silence followed, as others turned back or forward in their seats to watch the play that had begun minutes earlier. Scrooge released his hold on Magica, allowing his hands to relax in his lap, wearing a grin of victory. Magica sunk into her seat, upset that there was no rock to hider under. "You enjoyed that far too much." she murmured after a moment.  
  
He put a finger to his beak. "Shhh. I can't hear."  
  
~*~  
  
Though night had fallen, neither of them were ready to sleep just yet. Scrooge was at his desk, going over a few more tax reforms, while Magica was standing before the large vanity mirror, looking herself over in silence. Eventually, she huffed, Daisy's words still ringing in her head. "Scrooge. I want your honest opinion on something."  
  
"What is it?" He continued his work, hardly caring for the question.  
  
Hesitation, and then a sigh, adjusting herself, hands on her hips, smoothing her nightgown down. "Do you think I'm beautiful?"  
  
Whatever question Scrooge had been expecting, it wasn't that. He looked up, then at her, to make sure his hearing was in tact. "...What?"  
  
"It's a simple question!" She pointed at herself, growling. "Do you think I'm beautiful?"  
  
Warning sirens blared off in the miser's mind. He had to get out of this line as soon as possible. "... Is this because of what Daisy said, because Donald told me-"  
  
"Just answer!" She stormed up to him, grabbing his chair and turning it around so he would fully face her. "It's not that difficult! You either think I'm beautiful, or you think I'm not!"  
  
Not that difficult, his foot! His eyes darted around for any sign of an exit. "... That's... It, I, Uh... Oh, what do you care what I think!"  
  
Although he prepared himself for further argument, it was not given. Instead, her face fell, and she released his chair, retreating to the mirror. "I see." Her fingers pressed her face, now easily seeing all the wrinkles and lines of time. It seems she believed his answer meant 'not'.  
  
"Jiminy Cricket." Scrooge groaned, and stood up from his seat. "I didn't say you weren't!"  
  
"You didn't have to." And now she could see all the split ends in her hair.  
  
"It's not like that... it's..." He faltered, trying to think of an adequate explanation. "I don't... I never... You'd never see me as handsome, would you?"  
  
A quick glance his way. "Of course I would."  
  
Goodness, she was just throwing him all kinds of loops tonight. His spectacles almost fell off due to the surprise on his face. "...What?" he repeated.  
  
"I hate you, but I'm not blind." Eyes went back to the mirror. "Not to mention all those girlfriends I keep hearing about."  
  
"I've... they weren't... I explained those!" Now it was his turn to storm up to her. "I've lived a long life, and... and... Brigetta has never been my girlfriend, I don't know where you're getting that idea, and... further... more... will you knock that off and look at me!"  
  
So she did, upset, holding herself. Women, honestly! Scrooge ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes. "Fine, fine... I've never actually looked you as, as a woman... so... I'll do it now. Then I'll tell you what I think."  
  
"Fine." Hmph.  
  
A deep breath was taken, trying to expel the past from his mind. Ignore his own hate, everything she had done to him, who she was... and just look at the body. Judge that, and only that. He opened his eyes, and looked, bottom to top.Her legs were strong and shapely, with one foot nervously tapping the floor in impatience. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't skinny either - the average, healthy weight a woman should have, giving her body a full figure. Though her frame could be seen as delicate, there were hints of muscle here and there, showing the years she had worked alone to get what she wanted, the trials she had gone through to get certain spells. Her hands were small, but firm, gripping her arms intensely. Her hair was growing longer, he noticed, slowly starting to go beyond shoulders, giving off an appearance of black silk. She wasn't wearing any make-up, and that was for the better, as her cheeks would be rosy all on their own. Though her eyes were worried and saddened, they still shone clearly, attentive, colorful and alive as jewels she longed to have.  
  
He exhaled. "Yes, you are beautiful. Now will you be quiet?"  
  
A pause, and then she nodded, turning to head to bed. "There now, was that so hard?"  
  
Scrooge scratched the back of his head.... Was that so hard? She had no idea.  
  
~*~  
  
Magica hadn't been invited to many engagement parties in her left, but she had a distinct feeling they were supposed to be a lot louder and less awkward than this one. The rented ballroom was full of friends, family, and even some news groups, that were timidly picking at the buffet, making idle chatter, but mostly staring and gossiping at her and Scrooge. She couldn't really blame them – Scrooge McDuck, richest man in the world, settling down to marriage? And to his enemy, Magica DeSpell, no less! What had been a simple plan to get rid of her annoying family had managed to snowball into a national phenomenon. Magica hated Scrooge for not giving her the dime, hated her family for that stupid wedding contract, hated Daisy for thinking of this plan...  
  
  
  
And, right now, most of all, hated the outfit she was being forced to wear. It was an exact replica of the red dress from the photo album although changed in size to fit her age. It wasn't uncomfortable, in fact it was a perfect fit, and she didn't dare ask how the numbers of her body had gotten out. It looked good on her as well, giving her a slim appeal, and there was no question she looked beautiful in it. The hate was not entirely with the dress itself, but of its origins. How shocked she had looked the other day, receiving the boxed cloth, arriving straight from Romania, and signed as ordered by her 'future husband'.  
  
  
  
There was an addition to the dress that was not in the photo, however. The red collar around her neck, holding a single silver bell, carried plenty of hate as well. She was sitting next to Scrooge at a long table covered in a white cloth, and cast a glare at him. She flicked the bell with her fingers, the noise getting his attention, stopping him in his drink of tea to look over with calm. "What is this?" a light hiss. "I feel like a pet cat."  
  
  
  
"It warns to me when you're getting close." His tone was of a cruel joke, smirking, but then he shook his head, resuming his drink. "I thought it'd look nice. And you'll pay me back for all of it when this farce is over."  
  
  
  
"I can't afford it, and you know it." Her hands settled in her lap. "Why would you even get me this ridiculous outfit in the first place? Do you need to humiliate me that badly?"  
  
  
  
He placed his cup down. "Your grandmother was right."  
  
  
  
Now that was rare to hear. "About what?"  
  
  
  
"You shouldn't wear black all the time." He left it at that, his cup empty.  
  
  
  
She went silent, and fingered the bell again. How she hated that bell, that collar, that dress. She hated that he bought it all for her. She hated that he had thought of her and that he remembered the photo. She especially, deep down, hated how happy it had made her. The bell jingled with the lump in her throat.  
  
~*~  
  
Rosalino clutched his hand, having gotten used to the pain in his left arm – this new one to his right hand was out of nowhere, almost making him drop his wand. Ignoring his opponent for the moment, he looked to where the shot of magic had come from, up in the sky.  
  
  
  
Hovering high above, Magica was firmly holding onto her broom, her own wand clutched firmly in her hand, aiming right at him. She appeared out of breath, using all of her energy to arrive there as fast as she could force herself. Upon her shoulder was Poe, and he was suddenly jerked off by his sister. "Go, get them out of here!" She snapped, never taking her eyes off of the enraged sorcerer.  
  
  
  
"O-O-On it!" The raven stammered, stretching out his wings and flying down to the confused ducks below. The rental tuxedo store was halfway decimated, but Scrooge and Donald were still intact, though slightly bruised for Rosalino's efforts. Poe grabbed Scrooge's cane, trying to urge him to move along. "Come on, we've gotta get outta here!"  
  
  
  
"Wait a minute!" Scrooge yanked his cane back, using it to point at the goose. "What in blazes is going on with him?!"  
  
  
  
'Him' was distracted by Magica, sputtering and growling as he tried to get his wand to work again. "You should have stayed at the church! I'm going to end this!"  
  
  
  
She began to hover in closer, taking her time, wanting to stall as long as she could make it. "If you continue using the Forbidden, you'll wind up killing yourself. Stop this madness, and put down your wand!"  
  
  
  
"Never!" In defiance, he raised his weapon again – a bright light emitted from the top, sucking in the air around it and making a sound of hideous whirling -  
  
  
  
"HIT THE DECK!" screamed the Raven, and, joined with the male ducks, took cover behind one of the crippling concrete walls. Though they couldn't see the attack, they heard a tremendous blast hitting the wall, almost enough to deafen, and the wall suffered great damage, creating hot red cracks and dismantling the edges. It was obvious that it would not survive a second round of the same attack.  
  
  
  
With her stalling tactic failed, Magica commanded her broom to head straight down, and once she was close enough, she jumped straight off, hitting the ground on her heels, and striking Rosalino in the side with her wand. Although he cried out, he parried with her, wands sparkling off fizzling lights as the two fought one another, using all of their strength to try and drive the other away.  
  
  
  
Scrooge grabbed Poe roughly by the wing, demanding answers. "Explain! Everything! Now!"  
  
  
  
After some terrified crowing, the smaller bird managed to choke it out. "H-He's using the Forbidden! They're spells that cost you a year of your life every time you use them, because of their power! They do things that only the gods are supposed to have control over! He managed to learn two of them – the first one causes permanent love!"  
  
  
  
Donald found his traditional hat among the debris, and plopped it back on. "Somehow I doubt that's the spell he's using on us now, so what's number two?"  
  
  
  
The hideous whirling noise began to make itself known once more, as Poe's wing was released. "Death!"  
  
  
  
Fortunately by the time the spell hit the wall again, this time shattering it apart, the boys had scrambled away, although they were scraped by falling pieces. However, with the store crumbling apart, and now other buildings beginning to take damage from the war of the wands, the hiding places were becoming few and far between. There was no way to get out, aside from the air, and Poe was very sure if he tried to get away that way, he'd earn yanked off feathers. As they tried to make due with what used to be front desk, they also got a good view of the fight, able to see that Magica was trying her best to disarm Rosalino, but he wasn't showing his love any mercy. Their wands were pressed heavily against each other, with colors and fires exploding off of the contact, flying off into the distances.  
  
  
  
"The others will be here any minute." She hissed, both hands firmly on her long, thin wand, unable to tell in some places if she was sweating or bleeding. "Even you aren't strong enough to stand up against them!"  
  
  
  
"Then I'll use the Forbidden on all of them!" He roared at her, madness gleaming in his eyes. "Even if I only wind up with one year to live, it will be more than McDuck will see again!"  
  
  
  
"And you think that will make me love you?!" Her shoes were beginning to crack, she knew he was pushing her back. Her fear was realized – she wasn't strong enough to defeat him. Hoping that such terror was suppressed from being expressed, she continued pushing and fighting, hoping that if she could not defeat him, she could wear him out. "Be a man, Rosalino! Accept your losses!"  
  
  
  
"I've – lost – nothing!" He wasn't even looking at her in the face anymore – no, he was staring hard at her neck, where that belled collar – that damned collar! - was STILL being worn, and it only added on to his rage, his wand changing colors – and then it was suddenly thrust to her stomach – it was not the Forbidden, for the wind was still in tact – but before anyone could blink, there was violet colored electricity at her gut, and she was sent flying, back – back- back - she was now laying several feet away, sprawled onto her stomach.  
  
  
  
The scream of her name left Scrooge's mouth without him knowing it, and he abandoned the desk, much to the dismayed shouts of his nephew, threw his cane aside, running without thinking, at her side and breathless in seconds. He knelt down on the streets now made of rubble, and took her into his arms – to great relief, she was breathing, though a scarlet line was now trickling down her face. Her eyes opened halfway, and her voice was cracked. "What do you think you're doing...fool."  
  
  
  
"Saving your hide." But as he pressed her close to his chest, he realized there was still no way to escape. Running down the now abandoned roads would just earn a chase from Rosalino, and with Magica's weight in his arms, his age, and the exhaustion he was feeling already, it would be much of a track record.  
  
  
  
Speaking of the disgruntled goose, the sight of the lovers together caused him to hold onto his wand so tightly, his fingers dug into his hands, creating deep cuts. "Get away from her!" His voice no longer sounded of this world, so tangled up in jealousy and insanity. "She's mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!" with every chant of the word, the whirling noise and the light became whole once more, the terrible warning signal atop his weapon.  
  
  
  
Magica gave Scrooge a light shove, trying to sit up, and aim her wand right back at Rosalino. "Get out of here. I can handle him."  
  
  
  
"Are you daft?" Scrooge's arm came around her shoulders. "You can't even stand up." His free hand joined hers, holding the wand with her, and his voice became soft. "I'm not leaving you alone."  
  
  
  
She said nothing, but the wand now pulsed under their hands, gaining power. No spell can defeat the Forbidden, she knew this, it was one of the earliest things all those of the magic learned. Yet there were other lessons that rang in her head, as Rosalino's light grew brighter, as her own wand changed colors.  
  
  
  
 _Magic is connected to your emotions, to your belief, to your body, to you. It cannot give without receiving something in return. The harder you try, the harder you believe and wish for it, the stronger your spells become. That is why we discourage using it for money and for power. Those things can only last you so long, and your magic will suffer for it. Only when you have something true to fight for, will your magic be supreme._  
  
  
  
Her wand lifted, Rosalino's wand lifted, they aimed, and, feeling the rush of confidence and sheer strength rushing from her arms and throughout her entire body right back to the wand in a circle of infinity, she shut her eyes tightly with a single tear escaping, and exhaled, felt she needed to tell him, must tell him, if anything else he had to be told, "Scrooge, I - "  
  
  
  
THWACK!  
  
  
  
Rosalino fell onto the ground, face flat down, his wand rolling out and away from him. A lump was on top of his head, and, standing behind him, holding Scrooge's cane, was Donald, now twirling the lump-maker in his hand. "So, I guess that means I finally give that ten cent raise?"  
  
  
~*~  
  
It was around noon, and thus Ducksworth was in the dining room, ready to help serve the people of the mansion. As he entered, he notice Scrooge had already sat down, and was jotting down notes on a small piece of paper. The butler cleared his throat to make his presence known. "Tax season again, sir?"  
  
  
  
The duck shook his head, looking up for only the briefest of moments. "Just experimenting with something." Tapping the pencil to his beak, he decided it was safe enough to share his findings. "You know the belled collar I got Magica for the engagement party?"  
  
  
  
"Of course." the butler walked over to be next to McDuck. "She wears it constantly now."  
  
  
  
Scrooge's beak twitched, suppressing a smile that fact brought. "I know... but I've noticed something. This is just a guess, but I think any time she's pleased by something, she fiddles with that bell."  
  
  
  
The dog raised his eyebrows, a bit intrigued. "What makes you say that?"  
  
  
  
"Little things." The pencil now tapped the paper. "For example, let's see... ah, yes. When Rosalino got her that bracelet, the one with the emeralds, she played with the bell, and we all know how much that witch loves jewelry. Then she did it again when she got that letter Madam Mim, her best friend. Then, today, when Daisy was asking what color the wedding invitations should be, she touched the bell when Daisy suggested red. And I told the chefs to remake the lobster salad from the party, because I saw she had three servings of it, and will definitely ring when she has it for lunch today." Scrooge looked up, a little proud of his accomplishment. "So what does that tell you?"  
  
  
  
Ducksworth bit his tongue, wondering if he dared really comment. "...To be frank, sir? That tells me you pay rather... close attention to the likes and dislikes of Miss DeSpell."  
  
  
  
The smile vanished from the duck's bill, eyes wide and a hint of red on his cheeks. He slammed the pencil onto the table, cheery voice now a grating growl. "Don't you have lunch to serve!"  
  
  
  
"Of course, sir." Off he went to the kitchen, hoping his pay wasn't cut for pointing out the obvious.  
  
  
  
Scrooge began to cross out what he written, hiding his embarrassment, and mentally remarking on the foolishness of his servant. It had been harmless observation, that was all! Moving to erase his frustration, he stopped when the woman herself strutted in, wearing the collar, and sat down a few seats away from him. True to form, she crossed her arms, already impatient. "Well, where is it?"  
  
  
  
"Professional meals take longer than boiling noodles over a cauldron." He quipped, relaxing, and watching the doors to the kitchen carefully. Mere minutes later, Ducksworth had returned, and placed a bowl of lobster salad in front of each duck, and then went about fetching glasses of water for them.  
  
  
  
Magica idly poked the leaves, huffing. "Can't your chefs make anything original? Didn't we already have this?"  
  
  
  
"Either eat it, or your next meal will be ice cubes." But his tone wasn't bitter, stirring his fork in his bowl as he kept his eyes on the collar. If she rung it, his theory would be correct.  
  
  
  
The sorceress made a 'hmph' noise, before eating. A few bites into it, she paused to take a drink, and one hand pushed some hair back, stroked her neck... and then touched the bell, echoing a small 'ding ding' noise.  
  
  
  
Triumphant, Scrooge pointed a fork at her in his victory. "I knew it!"  
  
  
  
Glass half empty, Magica placed it down, staring at the accuser. "What?"  
  
  
  
"You ring that bell every time you're happy about something!" He gestured to her neck with her utensil, grinning and absolutely ignoring Ducksworth knowing look from the corner.  
  
  
  
The woman took a quick look at her arm, and then was quicker to remove it. "Don't be stupid, it was a nervous habit." She didn't even appear to notice she had been doing it in the first place.  
  
  
  
"You're like a little girl." There was sneer with that, leaning back in his seat. "Just admit you do it."  
  
  
  
"I will do no such thing." Her arms were crossed once more, the meal ignored. "Because I don't do any such thing!"  
  
  
  
"He has a list." Ducksworth was at the table again, grabbing the slip of paper before Scrooge could make a jump for it, ignoring the yell of his name from the writer. He handed it over to the surprised sorceress, and much to Scrooge's chagrin, she could read it despite the crossed out lines. When she was finished, she crumpled it in her hands, throwing it behind her, which the butler went to go clean up, and use an excuse to exit the room.  
  
  
  
She was on her feet, agitated, tapping her foot on the floor. "Do you have nothing better to do than study my neck?"  
  
  
  
"How am I supposed to ignore that constant ringing?" He jabbed a fork into his food, preparing himself for the fight that was about to ensue. "Why don't you ever take it off!"  
  
  
  
"If you hate it so much, you shouldn't have bought it in the first place!"  
  
  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't have!"  
  
  
  
"Then don't buy me anything ever again!"  
  
  
  
"As if I would ever waste my money on someone like you!"  
  
  
  
They spat back and forth at each other, loathing increasing with each lobby, until Magica stabbed her salad with a fork, and menacingly jabbed it at him, threatening to shove the implement and the leaf attached to it in a place where the sun didn't shine -  
  
  
  
Until the door to the living room was knocked, followed by the cheery voice of Magica's grandmother - "Hello, sweetie!" - and without waiting for the all clear, opened the door anyway, gazing upon the frozen scene of her granddaughter holding a fork of food to the supposed fiance. Silence followed, as Granny adjusted her glasses, making sure she was seeing correctly. 'Husband' and 'wife' took their time looking at each other, wondering how to fix the mistake, and keep playing the game. Granny spoke, skepticism clear. "I'm sorry, was I interrupting something?"  
  
  
  
Gears whirled in Magica's mind, and, shaking a bit, she placed her empty hand on Scrooge's shoulder. "Not at all, Granny! We were just enjoying lunch." Continuing to use a voice laced with a mix of sappy sweetness and acidic adjectives, she waved the fork to the man's mouth. "Say 'ah', Scroogie darling."  
  
  
  
Wishing he could say a few words that weren't for ladies ears, he complied, allowing the fork to enter past his lips, and quietly chewed the greenery as Magica sat back down, wiping the utensil with a napkin. She spoke again once she deemed it clean enough. "What brings you by this hour, Granny, without a call or a single word of warning?"  
  
  
  
Not believing the act for a second, the old woman strode up to his granddaughter, hands behind her back. "I just wanted to ask about the music that would be played at the wedding."  
  
  
  
"A church organ is all we need." Scrooge replied, once he had swallowed the force food.  
  
  
  
The relative scooted next to Magica, blond hair falling past her glasses. "Haven't you thought about it? Music can set an entirely new theme for a wedding! How about a choir of-"  
  
  
  
"No." Said the couple in unison, trying to get back to eating.  
  
  
  
"Then how about the jazz styling of - "  
  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
  
"We could always spring for country-"  
  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
  
"Not even a classical waltz theme?"  
  
  
  
"No." But this time, after the duo had said it, there was a faint 'ding ding' followed. Magica went perfectly still upon realizing what she had done, and her face flushed deeper than the lobster's shell as she felt Scrooge's smirk boring into her from the back of her head. She was on her feet fast enough to knock her chair backwards, grabbing her bowl and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.  
  
  
  
Granny stared where the chair once was, puzzled at what had just taken place. "What on earth was that about?"  
  
  
  
Scrooge held up his glass of water, taking a steady sip. "Why, I haven't the faintest idea." He waited until Granny had left to chase after her granddaughter to admire his smug appearance in the reflective glass. Of course he had been right, his theories always were. Why, he had even more examples of her doing that action that he hadn't written down.  
  
  
  
When Daisy showed the witch family the McDuck photo album, and displayed the one of him in his younger Klondike days, ding ding.  
  
  
  
When he had asked her to dance, during the engagement party, ding ding.  
  
  
  
When he and Rosalino were arguing who really did know Magica better, ding ding.  
  
  
  
When they had to fake kiss again in front of the family, along with some new reporters, ding ding.  
  
  
  
His confident expression faded, as each new recollection began to create a startling theory in his mind that was wholly unwelcome.  
  
~*~  
  
"What  _is_  magic?"  
  
Tea on the patio, with the fading sunset, that is where and when the strange question had been asked. Magica held the cup in her hand, having paused in her drink once the words had left the miser's mouth. she looked at him, making sure she had heard correctly. Since one of his eyebrows were raised and his gaze was curious, the question had been real. Quietly, she resumed her sip. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"It bothers me," He replied, voice already annoyed. "... when things happen with no explanation. I've seen you buy potions and wands, and buying a weapon is something anyone can do... but you also can conjure up spells all on your own. It should be one or the other. What's the difference?"  
  
She traced the outline of the cup. "... Yes, almost anyone can buy weapons. But that doesn't mean everyone can use them. If a man who has never used a gun before picks one up, he will not fire straight, and he might even wind up injuring his hand in the process. One needs experience before mastering bought weapons."  
  
"But even then... a gun is a machine. You speak of experience with the supernatural."  
  
A shrug with one shoulder. "I could teach your nephews how to use bought spells and potions for the rest of my life, but even when they turn gray, they would never be as powerful as myself, or other sorcerers and sorceresses."  
  
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the insistence of that term. She always got angry if she was called anything but a sorceress. For the sake of learning, he'd put that aside for now. "And why is that? What makes you and your ilk different from me and my nephews?"  
  
"Blood. Genetics." Catching the skepticism in his expression, she smirked. "Is it that much of a surprise? Like any genetic anomaly, magic is inherited. If a man with blue eyes and a woman with blue eyes have a child, there is a stronger likelihood that their child will also have blue eyes. My father had magic, my mother had magic, so Poe and I had magic."  
  
"Poe doesn't use magic." He refilled his cup. Some stars were beginning to shine out. The moon was hidden behind faint clouds. "I've never even seen him try."  
  
"It's a part of his transformation." Her eyes looked away, uncomfortable with the subject, yet still willing to relent. "When I turned him,  I didn't just change his out appearance... I changed his blood, his DNA. The only thing left that is truly him and our family is his memory. We are no longer blood related."  
  
There was a tense silence. At first, the elder was ready to ask if Poe knew... but... it became clear in his own mind. If Poe hadn't been told of it, the raven would have figured it out on his own, when he couldn't perform even the most simplest of magic. Perhaps that was why Granny treated him as more of a pet than a grandson, since he 'wasn't' a grandson to her anymore. Yet, as the older one kept thinking, he could recall moments where Magica treated Poe not quite as an equal but still as family. Even now, Magica looked decidedly unpleasant, with that emotion he thought she didn't have - guilt.  
  
Scrooge cleared his throat. "That still doesn't explain some things... all right, so you got it from your parents, who got it from your grandmother, and back and back... where did it all start?"  
  
She took another drink before getting back into the conversation. "With the gods, of course."  
  
"Of course." A derisive snort.  
  
"It's natural of you not to believe... but there were ancient times that it was commonplace for everyone to believe in gods. But as science and technology advanced, people disregarded their beliefs... but not everyone did. Those others, in fact, praised the gods for these advancements. But the people also became worried that, at this rate, belief would be stomped out everywhere, and future generations wouldn't believe in the gods. So they prayed and sacrificed, begging the gods for a way to keep belief alive. The gods decided to bless these people with magic."  
  
"I've seen more believable nonsense in Donald's comic books." A wag of the finger. "Where is your proof?"  
  
"Our own history books... which, is up to interpretation. No one is alive from those days, so for all I know, it could be false. But it's just easier to believe that story." Her cup became empty. "The same could be said for many religions. No one from the times of the original written bible is alive, and yet is is still treated as fact."  
  
"I was never one for religion." The tea pot became empty. "I still don't understand it all. How can your body, just because of a few select strands of DNA, be able to do things mortals can't?"  
  
She looked down at her now empty hands. "... Desire."  
  
"Desire?"  
  
The only light between was a single candle, flickering brightly over a red candle. Magica took the candle holder, a faded golden color, grasping it lightly in her fingers. With her other hand, she held up her wand in preparation. Then, with a soft and quick breath, the fire was gone. "You can light this again easily enough with a match, you can do it all by yourself, with your own hands. with magic... it deeply depends on what you want. You must want it with all of your heart." She pointed the wand at the burnt tip, and they both glowed deeply - in the blink of an eye, the candle was lit again. "I desired warmth and light. Desire... and desperation. Us of the magic cannot blend so easily into mortal society. Sometimes our lives are not easy. We become desperate to continue living, as our kind die out."  
  
The candle was the same as it had been minutes ago, as if it had never been blown out. Night was settling in. The fire was reflected in her eyes, and her face was illuminated. How much time had passed since he invited her to tea with him our on the patio? She placed the candle back down on the table. He watched it a little more before speaking. "If you don't have any children, the DeSpell line dies with you."  
  
"And another magical family is eliminated from the gene pool." A snap of her fingers, putting her wand down. "But I don't care. I've never cared too greatly for children... I can barely stand your brats. When I have the amulet granting me the power of the Midas Touch, I will be rich enough so that my line is eternally remembered. Our wondrous last stand. It's the same with you."  
  
He did not respond, felt no need to. Just a nod. He could see where she was going with that reasoning.  
  
"Even when the worms are eating your bones, everyone will still remember the name Scrooge McDuck. No nephew of yours carries that same last name. You are the last of the clan McDuck, and with your wealth, you will be remembered forever. That is a magic no sorcerer could create... the power of immortality."  
  
This time, he crossed one arm over, and pointed a finger. "About that, immortality... and I don't mean that whole 'remembrance' thing. Why can no sorcerer do that? I imagine wanting to live forever would generate tons of powerful desire."  
  
One of her legs crossed over the other. "... That is even stronger proof that the gods gave us this power."  
  
"Explain."  
  
"There is a branch of spell work that is called The Forbidden, because it is exactly that - forbidden. Using those spells threatens to expose magic to the entire world, and would create havoc, making us the new gods of the world. as punishment, whenever someone uses such a spell, they lose ten years of their life."  
  
"That's hardly proof."  
  
"Well, it's not like when they use, a god suddenly appears and smacks them upside the head. They just die much sooner than expected. After it happened enough times, the mathematics were figured out."  
  
"Have you ever used one?"  
  
A soft chuckle. The sun was gone. "I'm not stupid, as much as you're inclined to think so. I want the rest of my life to enjoy my riches."  
  
"So what are The Forbidden?" A few fireflies were making themselves known in the close gardens. Scrooge would silently shoo one away if one get too close, but Magica would allow one to crawl along her arm if it wanted to.  
  
"Extending someone's life span. Shortening someone's life span. Death. Love-"  
  
"Now hold on." he cut her off, leaning in. "I've seen you use plenty of love potions and spells."  
  
"Mediocre things." A dismissive wave of her hand. "Those types had time limits, and only seized part of the heart. The Forbidden Spell Of Love captures the entire heart and mind, for all time. It's a love akin to madness. The victim cares for nothing but the caster... not even their own health. That spell has been the cause of much bloodshed. Helen of Troy was a victim, as was Romeo and Isolde..."  
  
His brows furrowed. "... Wait... do you mean Romeo and Juliet? Tristan and Isolde? Those are made up stories."  
  
"So is magic, to some." A smile, and then she stood. "It's getting cold. I'm going inside."  
  
"One more question." He stood as well. "Do you actually know how to use The Forbidden?"  
  
Her eyes met his. "Yes. For the sake of our dying history, sorcerers and sorceress are even taught those spells. Granny, Samson Hex, Rosalino, even Witch Child could use one, if their desire was strong enough."  
  
He picked up his cane, that was previously laid against his chair. He appeared amused. "Should I take it as a compliment that you've never desired me dead that strongly?"  
  
She approached the doors. "Fool. If you died, that dime of yours becomes worthless. Then I'd have to find the next richest man alive." Though her hand was on the door handle, she did not press on it. She could feel his eyes on her, still inquisitive. A sigh. "All right, what else?"  
  
"Those gods... if they gave your people magic, that makes these supposed divine beings useless. They wouldn't need to help your people anymore, since they could help themselves. What became of them?"  
  
She stayed where she was, even as he walked up to her. Slowly, she turned to look at him. "We believe they help the non-blessed. The mortals. They give you strength... you just aren't aware of it. When you desire something that desperately... they are there to lend that power. Fate changes. Miracles occur. They can't do this to everyone... without belief, their abilities grow weaker all the time. But they will live on so long as humanity does. Because desire... always exists."  
  
They stared at each other. The candle was still lit. There was no wind.  
  
"You're saying, if I desire something strongly enough, the gods will help me?" He had desired many things in his life, he knew that well.  
  
Desire and need are two different things. People need food and water, need comes with survival. Need is primal, and can over ride the mind in order to get it. Deaths can be as a result of an unfulfilled need. Desire is different. Desire is a pain that cannot be described, yet, with time, it can be pushed away. People can live without desires being fulfilled. Yet, there is not a single person who has ever lived who has never felt desire at least once.  
  
And yet, there are people who let desire consume their lives. They feel without this wish being granted, they are better off dead. If they allow it, a desire can control a person. That's when the desire becomes a need. That's when the gods can no longer help. You are on your own.  
  
The door handle was gripped. "It's possible. But they have better wishes to grant than the ones of a rich old miser. So, probably not." The door was opened, and she was soon gone.  
  
When he could no longer hear her footsteps, he returned to the table, and picked up the candle holder. He blew it out. "Yes," he murmured, touching the remains of wax. "Probably not."  
  
~*~  
  
When, exactly, did he realize she was a woman?  It like such a ridiculous thing to think about, but during the course of their lives knowing one another, he supposed he never really acknowledged that about her. Of course he knew she was female, but due to all of her aggravating attacks on his dime, he had just molded her into 'that person'. He had always been satisfied with that state. She was his enemy, there was no need to change that. Things could have stayed like that, if it wasn't for this entire ruse.  
  
Now here he was, hugging her, having her lean onto his body, fully aware of what she was, and who she was. She felt so small against him, as powerless as a doll, her head resting  on his chest. No objection had been made to the embrace, as it had started out as an accident, anyway. They were descending the stairs, ready to get some lunch before having another dreadful afternoon with her family, when, nearing the last steps, she had tripped and fallen forward.  He not only caught her, but instinctively, his arms had gone around her. Though now she was capable of standing up and walking on her own, neither made any attempt to leave.  
  
The gigantic mansion of a home was silent. The only thing that could be heard were their light breaths, and his heartbeat so close to her ear. She wasn't even returning the gesture, her arms curled up on his chest. Of course he was in no rush to see Magica's family again, there were other reasons not to leave this moment. He just couldn't think of them right now. Frankly, a lot of his mind was refusing to work right now.  
  
Wasn't she supposed to be pushing away to make some scathing comment? He was almost afraid to see what kind of expression she was wearing. The more time that passed, the more sense reached into his head. With great reluctance, he moved his hands, grabbing her by the elbows, and ever so lightly pulling her away by mere inches. Her wide eyes showed that she was initially surprised, but her look settled in understanding. Except he still hadn't really let go, and judging by his grip, still wasn't planning to.  
  
He wasn't planning on doing anything, yet she appeared to be expecting something. Maybe she understood this situation better than he did. His grip eased, not entirely holding her in place, but still enough to be felt. It became a staring contest, his confused and slightly bewilderment to her anticipation and patience.  
  
Just then, the door to the dining room creaked open, and Ducksworth stepped in, mouth open to announce, again, that lunch was served. But when he caught sight of the ducks in such a position, who were now staring right back at him, he hesitated, then stepped back, closing the doors and leaving them. The spell broken, Magica abruptly shook her arms loose, and stuck her bill up high, indignant. Once again, they had become enemies. It was if nothing had happened in those past few minutes. That was completely fine with Scrooge.  
  
Yet, as she walked by him, her arm brushed against his, and for the faintest of moments, her cold fingers ran up his arm. Feeling his heart jump into his throat, he turned to look at her, but she was already at the door, opening it to leave. She glanced back at him, still wearing her usual expression of distaste, leaving him to wonder if he had just imagined that fleeting sensitive touch.She left the room, and he would only join her once he was positive his face was no longer red.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, haven't done a storybit in a while! This one is based off a recently created 'verse, which for now I'll simply dub The Nightingale. 
> 
> So a few weeks ago I learned some extra Disney trivia. Apparently at one point a long time ago there was going to be another attempt at a Fantasia-like project, but it got scrapped. One of the ideas for the film was going to be an adaption of the tale The Emperor's Nightingale starring our man Mickey Mouse. I got wildly inspired by the idea, especially because I'd never heard this story before.
> 
> For now the basic idea is that in an effort to cheer up Emperor Goofy, Mickey hunts for the mystical nightingale whose song is supposed to bring instant happiness. He finds what he thinks is just an ordinary nightingale and brings it back, only to find out this bird does have amazing singing prowess. Also Mickey starts having unusual dreams about a beautiful girl who's completely enamored with him. Wonder what the connection is.
> 
> So this storybit is exploring the dream idea where Mickey "first" meets the mystery girl with no voice.

Such as is the nature of dreams, Mickey didn't know how he got to this pond nor did he much care. He was content to sit on the grass and enjoy the grass brushing against his face. He leaned on his hands, closing his eyes and taking in the simplicity of nature. It was such a peaceful place that he felt it was a shame to have it all to himself. Maybe his friends Donald and Goofy would appreciate it, as they had both worked very hard during Mickey's absence. Emperor Goofy would have also liked coming here to get away from the palace just for a moment. Finally Mickey thought of his little “mini bird”, as he'd affectionately begun to call his new friend.

The nightingale hadn't shown off any major characteristics that hinted towards male or female save for its amazing singing voice, and so Mickey had decided a song that beautiful must belong to a girl. Even though their friendship was still new, he'd come to love the bird as if he'd known it for ages. So he didn't doubt that his mini bird would like to be here, maybe sitting on his left ear as it'd begun to do in its new life in the palace. But just as begun to think about his mini bird, he heard a rustle in the tall grass behind him. He glanced back, curious who was about to join him. But it was none of the people he knew.

Instead what walked out into his line of sight was a girl far prettier than any he'd ever seen in the empire. Her brown and gold silk robes flowed all around her as if they were floating on air, making her seem small and delicate. A hazel colored robe circled around her waist, accentuating a bow that rested on top of her thin black tail. She was a mouse like he was, but Mickey was stunned any one sharing his species could look this amazingly gorgeous. Gosh, even other women couldn't come close to her level. Her eyes were closed momentarily, making Mickey notice the lovely golden eyebrow that highlighted her long lashes. Her cheeks were similarly painted in soft hues, although it was still easy to make out that she was blushing.

In her hands she was holding a large gathering of flowers of all colors and sizes. Mickey was sure there were flowers there he'd never seen before. They were tied up in another hazel bow, and when the girl finally opened her eyes and looked at him, he seemed to realize he'd been staring with an open jaw ever since she walked out. He quickly shut his mouth, his cheeks dark with embarrassment. “Uh. Um.” Words failed him for a second. He talked to plenty of girls before, why was this so different? “Hello.” He managed to get out in a squeaky tone, and then tried again with a stronger voice. “Hello!”

The girl smiled at him, and Mickey saw something in her eyes that confused him greatly. He didn't know what it was, but then no one had ever looked at him with complete and utter adoration before, which was he was unable to recognize it. Nor would he have guessed it, since he hadn't done anything to earn any girl's adoration, much less a stranger's. “M-My name's Mickey. Mickey Mouse. It's nice to meet you, miss...?”

He waited for a name that didn't come. Instead the girl suddenly pushed the bouquet right into his arms, and then turned away swiftly, covering her cheeks with her palms. Mickey blinked rapidly at the gift in his lap, looking back and forth between it and the mystery girl. Last he knew, boys were supposed to give girls flowers – but this wasn't so bad. They looked nice, and smelled better, and his room could use some color. “Gee, thanks!” He chirped, slowly beginning to relax in the girl's presence. “No one's ever given me anythin' like this before. Might need a really big vase though. I'll ask Horace if he's seen one that'll fit.” A click of his tongue. “Kinda feel bad I didn't get you anythin'.”

The girl was still quiet, though now she was happily twisting her hands about. It appeared that she was very happy he enjoyed his gift, even casting him a few shy glances before turning her cheek away demurely. Mickey wasn't sure what he'd done to earn such gratitude, but he found himself liking it. He'd been about to ask her why she was so silent, when he noticed an unusual rip in her left sleeve. “Hey, what happened there?” Mickey asked, suddenly getting on his knees to get a better look. The girl froze in that moment, uneasily looking back at her arm. Mickey put the bouquet aside gently, and then leaned in closer. “You're not hurt, are you?” He laid a few fingers on the girl's forearm just to be sure, but thankfully the rip was only found on the robe. Oddly, he remembered his mini bird and how Mickey had thought the attack from the wolf had done it grave harm – but it'd only lost a few feathers. How strange for that memory to come up all of a sudden.

Mickey sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, I thought you might've hurt yourself getting' me those-WHOA!” Somehow this single act of sympathy earned him a tackle from the no longer timid maiden. “Hey, hey, hey!” Mickey cried out, although more from surprise than wanting her to stop. He managed to catch his hands on the ground, and the girl had her arms around his neck, lovingly kissing his bright red cheek over and over. Once more Mickey lost his ability to find words, stammering and stuttering as the girl lavished him with affection. “H-Hey! I-I, um, uh, you, you're...w-welcome?”

After a few more smooches, the girl was content to sit in Mickey's lap, curling up as if she belonged there all along. Mickey wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve any of this, but he desperately wanted to know so he could do it again and again. “D-Don't suppose you feel like givin' me a name after all that, huh?”

The girl pulled back a smidgen and pointed to her throat, shaking her head. Mickey blinked once before understanding. “Oooh...It's not that you don't wanna talk, you just can't!” The girl nodded, and Mickey spoke for her again. “Well! That's all right. There's plenty of folks out there who can talk but have nothin' to say. We'll find a way!” He smiled at her, and she smiled in turn. “See, we understand each other just fine. All I gotta do is ask yes or no kinda stuff. Like, uh, have we met before?”

The girl hesitated, looking around as if searching for the real answer. She seemed to decide on a yes as she nodded, and Mickey whistled in surprise. “Really? Gosh, I think I would've remembered someone like you! If I forget you again, I'm never gunna forgive myself.” The girl playfully poked his nose, and Mickey grabbed her hand, his confidence growing. “Do you come from around here?” That was a no. “Got any family?” Another no. “Well hey, me too! I mean, the Emperor did take me in.” He leaned back as he gave this some thought. “I don't really remember my life much before that either, to be honest. And he gave me a roof over my head and meals every day, made sure I got an education and...Gosh, guess I wouldn't be who I am without him. Maybe that does make him my family.”

The girl nodded again in agreement, before pressing her fingers against Mickey's chest. It took him a moment to understand after his heart stopped fluttering. “Right, a family made of the heart, not by blood! Guess that makes Donald and Horace my family too. And Pluto! And of course my mini bird.” He failed to notice the girl's eyes had widened at this as he rambled on. “Might be a new member of the family, but family all the same. She's got the sweetest voice, and she really-” Again Mickey found himself cut off as the girl suddenly pressed herself even closer to him, nuzzling her cheek to his own. “Um. Um. Ummm. You, um, like birds?”

The girl then cupped Mickey's cheeks, her eyes burning into him with the intensity of a hot summer day. “You want somethin'?” Mickey dared to ask, and the girl nodded. When she didn't make any other motion, that told Mickey what she wanted was him. “B-But I'm nothin' special!” He felt a sudden need to blurt out before his heart exploded in his chest. “I'm just a palace servant, dime a dozen! A gal like you, you deserve...I dunno, somethin' better! I mean, look at you!” He motioned his head to the pond so she could do so, but she never tore her eyes off of him.

“Only thing I've ever done out of the ordinary was finding mini bird for the Emperor, and I'm sure anyone would've done the same in my shoes.” Although now that he thought about it, Horace and Donald had the chance but didn't take it. The girl seemed to know this, shaking her head slowly at his response. She then began to lean in, as if she was...as if she was...

Mickey had seen enough of Donald and Daisy's fights and subsequent make-ups to realize that she was going in for a kiss and _OH GOODNESS SHE WAS GOING IN FOR A KISS._ Mickey's humility promptly took a backseat. He could tell her about how dull and ordinary he was later, he wasn't going to reject this kind of offer! He felt himself trembling and tried to stop it, closed his eyes and waited, and even though he'd never done this sort of thing before his body seemed to have an understanding as he found himself leaning in and moving his lips and - 

_**THUD.** _

It wasn't the first time Mickey had fallen out of his bed and it wouldn't be the last, but he'd never been so upset to wake up that way. He yelped as he flipped over, sitting on his knees and grabbing the bed sheets. “Huh! Where'd she-Where am-What the-” Within seconds he saw he was in his room in the palace, and that things were the same as they'd always had been. He groaned, slowly beginning to stand up. “Figures the one girl I'd like is one I made up.” He yawned loudly before glancing at his desk drawer, where the nightingale sat, pecking at its tray of seeds. “Hope I didn't wake you up, mini bird.”

Nightingales aren't capable of making emotional expressions, but for half a second Mickey thought it looked both sad and annoyed. But it kept eating its meal so Mickey decided he'd imagined it, just as he'd imagined a goddess covering him in kisses.


	5. the marriage of Aphrodite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I get inspired as hell to do the Nightingale verse, the next I'm all about Greek gods. Whaddya figure.
> 
> Anyway, for those new to this 'verse, basically I have an idea about Mickey and Minnie as Hephaestus and Aphrodite, the greek gods who got hitched. I tried writing it by myself a while ago but I burnt out as I figured lots of things needed to be changed and I needed editors. But it will be written some day! 
> 
> Anyway, in this scene, Minnie is mooning over Mickey, the ignored god with a bad leg. Then shenanigans. Also if this segment does stay in the full story, it will come back to bite. Sort of.

Mickey often found that the harder a project took, the happier he became. He took pride from very twist of metal and splash of paint he could apply. On this particular day he was working on dozens of trinkets for his nereid friends in the sea, so he was supposed to be thrilled. But every so often he'd glance about, checking his metallic servants, and then resume his workload. He couldn't help but feel that he was being watched, although he ultimately decided he was being paranoid.

Funny enough, it was actually the one time his paranoia was accurate. All full-blooded gods had the power to summon a mirror to watch over anyone and anything they pleased down in the mortal plane. It had taken goddess Aphrodite, chosen name Minnie, several attempts to master this. While initially she had used it to look down on mortals so she could help them with her love woes, as of lately she'd been obsessed with watching Hephaestus, chosen name Mickey. She could spend hours watching him work, and often did, sighing happily and often needing to fan herself after Mickey did a particularly difficult project.

Each day she watched him she tried to think of how best to introduce herself for the inevitable day they met. Being the goddess of love, most people fell in love with Minnie automatically, which had become extremely annoying. She wanted Mickey to love her for who she was, not because of her unusual powers, but she had yet to figure out how to turn off her “love powers”. So for now she had to be content with gazing from afar, as she was doing on this day. She was also trying on new dresses and attempting to figure out which would match Mickey's taste.

It was a typically normal day, until the god of war entered her personal space, slamming the door open while holding a bouquet of blood red roses. “It's your lucky day, babe!” Ares, chosen name Pete, always made waves when he entered a room, and Minnie's entire room rattled as he let himself inside.

Minnie herself was not rattled. “A-huh.” She replied without thought, eyes glued to Mickey as he lifted his hammer. She was sitting on her bench, snapping her fingers in order to change her dress whenever the idea came to her.

“Now normally I'd say big ol' Zeus should stay out of our business,” Pete continued, ignoring the fact that he himself was being ignored. “But for once he came up with a real brilliant idea! It's going to solve all your problems, and make us happy for the rest of our days!”

“A-huh.” Minnie repeated again, envious of Mickey's robotic servant as it wiped sweat off of Mickey's brow.

“Since all of us have been fightin' over you, he's gunna put a stop to that.” Pete tried speaking up a little louder to see if that'd make her turn around. “As soon as you tell him who you want to marry!”

“A-huh.” Minnie loved that cute thing Mickey did when he stuck out his tongue to the corner of his mouth as he thought over color choices.

“And obviously that means you'll choose me, since I got here first, and I'm more powerful than the rest of those losers! So how's about we get a jump start on those wedding plans? I figure we can honeymoon in Rome, there's going to be a huge battle there, and it'll be beautiful! Not as beautiful as you, a'course, but then, what is?” Pete then dangled the roses in front of Minnie's face, finally snapping her out of her lovesick trance.

She blinked rapidly and turned around, eyebrows raised. “Oh. Ares. When did you get here?”

“Now, now, sweetness, we're about to be hitched!” He laughed as he slapped her on the back, causing Minnie to topple over and fall on the floor. “You can just call me Pete!”

She was quick to gather her wits and stand up, brushing her dress down. “Hitched?” She repeated, incredulous. “We're not getting hitched! What are you talking about?”

“Aw, ain't that like a pretty gal! All looks and no brains!” Pete was about to slap her back again but Minnie knew to jump out of the way this time. “Like I said, Zeus has ordered you to choose a husband, so let's start the celebrating!”

“He did _what?!_ ” Minnie walked backwards in shock. “The nerve of – I will do no such thing! I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!” Furious, she headed for the door – and found the next god vying for her hand.

“Ha cha cha!” said Dionysus, chosen name Mortimer, who had gone with a bouquet of grapes instead of flowers. “I knew that wacky war-loving weirdo wasn't for you! What's say you and me get a jump start on that honeymoon? Forget Rome, Athens is the hippest place around!”

“Oh, dear.” Minnie was starting to get an idea of how bad her day was going to be, but it wasn't fully cemented until she dared to tilt her body and look behind Mortimer. Behind him was, perhaps, every single available male god who lived on Mount Olympus. The line seemed to go on for miles, each with their own bouquet offering.

In the ways of godhood, Minnie was still a newborn in many aspects. She'd yet to feel the full scope of everything, including the wide range of emotions. She'd learn later that the flaming feeling circulating through her veins was called “being majorly pissed off.” She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, shoved Mortimer out of her way – allowing him to fall onto the man behind him, creating a domino affect for a while – and once she was out of her makeshift home, she stomped her foot hard. “ZEUS! I demand an audience with you _right this second!_ ”

In a crack of lightning and a boom of thunder, a man and his throne appeared before Minnie, larger and taller than any mountain on the mortal plane. At such a height, it was impossible to see his face. although Minnie and others largely suspected he put on this appearance just for the shock value. But Minnie had gotten used to this ridiculous introduction and refused to cower in his presence, unlike the men who were trying to hide behind each other.

“ **Aphrodite.** ” The almighty voice boomed. “ **Very few can demand my presence and survive. It is only your amazing beauty that softens my anger. Truly your allure is one that history will celebrate for the ages. Your grace and refinement benefit all who-** ”

“Yes, yes, whatever.” Minnie waved it off, having heard similar speeches every day since she first arrived. “What's this about me all of a sudden needing to choose a husband?”

“ **As you well have noticed, your charm has won over all the hearts of us on Mount Olympus. But is the nature of man who protect what he believes belongs to him alone. Squabbles turned into violence, and now the men of Mount Olympus have been unable to perform their proper duties due to their ever increasing desire for your hand. Thus, I have decried the only way to put aside these battles once and for all is for you to choose a victor. You must choose a full blooded god to be your groom.** ”

Minnie glanced back to the pile of pitiful people, who were grinning at her with eager anticipation, before returning her attention to Zeus. “Aren't you our leader? Our king? Our ruler? Can't you just tell them to do their jobs? Why am I being punished because they're acting like fools?”

“ **You should have thought of that before being so pretty. How are men supposed to help themselves around you?** ”

Other emotional words were being added to Minnie's vocabulary, like “frustrated” and “resentful” and “I need to smack a god.” She drew herself up, fists clenched, refusing to back down. “I refuse! I won't marry someone I won't love!”

At this, Pete, Mortimer, and the others all began listing their reasons why she could fall in love with them.  
“I'd start a war for you!”  
“I can turn guys into dolphins!”  
“I can do a handstand!”  
Which, amazingly enough, did not earn Minnie's favor.

“ **As you said, I am your ruler.** ” Zeus' voice rumbled. “ **You have no choice. You must choose a full-blooded god to marry!** ”

“I will not!” Minnie stamped her foot down again and again, the ends of her dress beginning to burn up like wood in a fire. “You can't make me! There is absolutely no way I will ever, ever, EVER marry any of them! There isn't a single god I would ever want to-”

_Wait a minute._

Minnie paused in mid rant, raising an eyebrow as an idea came to her. She slowly straightened her back as a devious smile curled across her lips, and even the ends of her dress suddenly stopped burning, instead poofing up into lace. She calmly pressed her hands together and batted her eyelashes. “Do forgive me, dear Zeus. You know how silly we women can be, just letting our temper run rampant. Let me just ask one itty bitty question. If I did choose a man to eventually marry, does that mean the others can't fight over me anymore?”

“ **Ah, now you finally see my wisdom!** ” Zeus laughed before her answered her. “ **Indeed, all shall be made to accept your decision. I will not have them turn Mount Olympus upside down because they were a sore loser.** ”

“Just what I wanted to hear.” Minnie chirped pleasantly, swinging her hands together as any demure damsel would. “Because I do believe I've made my choice. I know exactly who I'd like to marry. Someday.”

Pete slammed a fist to his chest, believing himself to be the winner. Mortimer smoothed down his robes, thinking something similar, and the other gods also began to make themselves more presentable for their supposed victory. “You see, the man I want to marry,” Minnie began, sighing happily and closing her eyes as she pictured him, “is not only a handsome fellow, but also ever so kind, and creative, and smart, and funny, and just about the most perfect man I've ever known. I absolutely adore him, and I feel like I was born to meet him.” Naturally, all the silly men assumed she was describing them, and their grins became wider. “He's positively perfect in every way, and I would be happy just to watch over him for the rest of my life. He's got the most brilliant eyes, and the cutest smile, and-”

“ **Sometime this century, Aphrodite.** ”

“Sorry.” Minnie giggled adorably, swaying her dress around. “His name is...Hephaestus. You might know him as Mickey.”

Mount Olympus is rarely quiet, but rarely doesn't mean never. Silence struck all the powerful deities, until a voice way in the back of the line asked, “Who the Hades is Hephaestus?”

“H-Hold on a minute there!” Pete stammered once he had regained control of his mouth. “Him?! You want that scrawny, bow-legged boy?!”

“This is a joke!” Mortimer tried to insist with a nervous laugh. “She's going to make her real choice now. Right, doll?”

Minnie tilted her head back at the gobsmacked grooms, smiling from one big ear to the other. “I do believe Zeus said you weren't going to fight over me once I made a choice. Right?”

Even Zeus appeared to be thrown off, grasping for words before clearing his throat. “ **Er...Um...I mean, yes, it is as I have decreed! She has made her decision, and that is final. Even if we don't understand it.** ” A pause. “ **I need to start putting more thought into my decrees.** ”

“Well now, I feel much better.” Minnie curtsies once to Zeus before flouncing away, bouncing with every step. “Byebye, boys!” As far as Minnie was concerned, this all worked out perfectly. None of the other gods ever visited Mickey, so there was no chance anyone was going to tell him what had happened. She'd keep this a secret until they were well into their relationship, whenever that began.

Mickey, meanwhile, stopped his work yet again. He no longer felt like he was being watched, a different sensation was creeping up his spine. “Why do I feel like I did nothin', and yet somehow got into a whole world of trouble?”


	6. scheherazade - admissions and astonishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another look at my Son of Scheherazade verse! For those not in the know, Mickey is said son, off to rescue his kidnapped parents with the aid of Sinbad a.k.a Goofy, genie Minnie, killer couple Clarabelle and Horace, trickster Daisy and weather-powered Donald. The first one is about the backstory of Mickey's parents and Minnie's inner revelation that she's in love with Mickey. The second is really more of a gag, might not even go in the actual story itself, I just really enjoy when I can make the mice super flustered. What can I say, I'm shameless.
> 
> Additionally, the 'thief' character is supposed to be an actual Disney character from the comics who I do want to put in the story, but I forgot her name and after spending a half hour on INDUCKS and google trying to find her, I gave up for now. ^^; Ah well, I'll be sure to put more effort in the story proper!

“Don't you think it's high time she knows?” Daisy said quietly after exhaling a long stream of smoke from her pipe. Normally she'd wave it away after a good puff, but on this cold night it seemed to drift around like a venomous snake waiting for the kill. No one objected out right, but the discomfort was obvious on everyone's faces – Goofy was choosing to stare at the floor, twiddling his thumbs. Clarabelle was glaring daggers, Horace was chewing the inside of his cheek, and Donald's left foot couldn't decide if it wanted to stay still or lean on a wall. “It only seems fair,” Daisy finally continued, “That she should know about the people we're rescuing, and about her dear master. About who he really is. About what he could really do.”

Minnie could feel the knot in her stomach tighten with every word. “What do you mean? Isn't master Mickey's mother a famous storyteller?” That's what everyone had said, while choosing to speak so little about his father. If it was something so relatively harmless, why was Daisy speaking as if a horrific monster lay in wait behind the door?

“Do we really have to do this now?” Clarabelle grumbled, rubbing her arms slowly.

“She does have a point.” Donald's shoulders shifted around as he dared to speak up. “Mickey probably thinks she knows already.”

Daisy chuckled darkly before taking another inhale from her pipe. When she exhaled, she was all smiles. “I guess that makes me the storyteller this time around...how fitting.” She twirled her golden pipe in her fingers, as if trying to make a figure from the smoke. “Once upon a time, there was a sultan who was very lonely. It was high time he found a wife. His advisers sought out the most beautiful women from all around the kingdom from the most noble families. Perhaps she was some rich man's daughter, or the eldest in a family of traders...Who knows.”

“But when the chosen one was brought before the sultan, he instantly fell in love and declared they'd be married in the morning. Everyone in the kingdom celebrated their sultan's happiness. It was a time of peace and prosperity, and the sultan couldn't imagine his joy could ever die. He spoiled her every day with gifts, with jewels and dresses. One day, he found a dress made out of the finest silk and richest colors, and he couldn't wait to bestow it upon her. So he entered her room...” Daisy clicked her tongue to her beak. “And found her in bed with another man.”

That wasn't Mickey's mother, Minnie knew this automatically. It couldn't have been. When Mickey spoke of Scheherazade, his eyes lit up with affection and he couldn't stand still, needing every part of his body to express how fantastically wonderful she was. It was if she was without flaw. So this told Minnie that this story wasn't going to be flowers and sunshine. She was afraid to look anywhere, and caught a glance of Goofy, who had shut his eyes and knew what was to come.

“The poor king was heartbroken.” Daisy went on, unaffected by the sorrow and rising dread in the cramped room. “And in his grief and rage, he ordered for his wife and her lover to be executed.”

_Executed._

The word carried such weight yet Daisy spoke of it as it held no meaning. Minnie's mouth felt dry – she wanted to cry out, to demand the true version of this story, but this wasn't one of Daisy's annoying pranks or tricks. Daisy waved her hand as she spoke, gesturing to a place they couldn't see. “Once their dead bodies were tossed out, the sultan demanded a new wife be brought to him before sundown. As always, he was to be obeyed. So another woman of great beauty and renown was brought to him, and an impromptu marriage was made. And that night, the heartbroken sultan showed his new wife her bedroom, had her gaze across the kingdom, and left her to enjoy her new life. He then ordered his guards to kill her.”

At this Minnie lost all the strength in her legs, falling to her knees in stunned horror. Donald was at her side in seconds, asking if she was all right, but she couldn't hear him. This couldn't be Mickey's heritage. This couldn't be related to him at all. Not Mickey would tried for peace before bringing out his sword, not the boy who had such mirth in every sentence he said. Daisy wouldn't stop. “Of course, there are rumors that his guards sent the woman away and merely lied to the sultan...but you'd have to ask Mickey dearest if that was true. Regardless, the sultan asked for a new bride in the morning that he would kill by nightfall. He did this for days, with the entire kingdom too terrified to disobey him.”

“Skip _ahead_ , would ya?” Horace interrupted, pushing himself off against the wall. “Girl doesn't need all the gory details. Just get to the happy ending, all right?”

“She's the one who asked.” Daisy replied flippantly, tossing her pipe once in the air before complying. “Very well. One day a woman came to the palace, offering to take the latest girl's place as the king's bride. Since she was a great and rare beauty from a different land, they took her up on the offer so no one from the kingdom would suffer. But when the sultan took her to her room, ready to leave her to her death, she offered to tell him a story.” She held up a single finger. “The sultan was intrigued by such an unusual offer, so he decided she could weave her tale before killing her. But this was no ordinary story, and no ordinary storyteller, creating adventures that took place all across the world and speaking of characters that no mere imagination could create. Best of all, she left it on a cliffhanger.”

Donald lightly held Minnie by the shoulders, trying to help her back on her feet. “It was Scheherazade! See, the sultan wanted so badly to know how the story ended, he let her live.” he said once she was up. “She finished the story the next night, but started another one. Went on like that for 1,001 nights.”

“And then the sultan decided he couldn't kill her and they had Mickey and the end.” Clarabelle spoke rapidly, trying to finish the whole sordid ordeal once and for all. “There, we're done! Now can we stop talking about it?”

Daisy's eyes narrowed, thoroughly irked that they'd taken the story reins away from her. “You all think it's that simple? Just a happily ever after? Haven't you ever once thought what kind of babe would come from such a union?”

 _Stop it._ Minnie didn't look up.

Goofy opened his eyes and tilted his head, his long ears drooping over. “Whaddya mean, Daisy?”

“Mickey's a boy born from blood and heartache.” Was Daisy exaggerating as a form of revenge, or did she on some level believe what she was saying? It was always difficult to tell when she was being entirely truthful. “Even if the girls were saved, the sultan intended for them to die. If that's not blood lust, I don't know what is. Once you know who Mickey was, haven't you wondered if that's inside of him?”

 _Stop it._ Minnie's fists bench to clench, and she could feel her fingernails almost piercing through her skin. 

“That maybe, if he was hurt in just the right place, he'd snap?” Daisy snapped her fingers, holding her hand high. “That if he's pushed hard enough, he'll be out for vengeance? Don't tell me none of you have ever considered it! I bet deep down beneath that cute smile of his, there's a great big beast ready to come out. It might even come out on this journey of ours. That one point where he'll give into his past, and become his father's son-”

“STOP IT!” Minnie hadn't known her voice could be so loud, nor did anyone else in the room, given how all eyes were now upon her. “Stop saying these things! Stop talking like you know him! Mickey isn't like that at all!” Anger was bursting through her chest, a fire that was roaring out of her mouth, screaming each protest louder and louder until it threatened to destroy her throat. “I won't let you talk about him like that! You don't know him! _You don't know him at all!_ ”

With that declaration came a need, a need to have Mickey know he wasn't like that, to assure him that he was kind and wonderful and special. Minnie shoved Donald out of her way, racing out into the hallway, her little feet echoing a stampede.

Clarabelle snatched the smoking pipe out of Daisy's hand. “Are you happy now?”

Daisy didn't reply, but she did smile, amusement covering her beak.

Minnie kept running, her heart pounding in her big black ears, the bloodsoaked story contrasting with the gentle prince she'd known. Even if it was true, it didn't matter. Minnie knew Mickey, she'd seen the way his face would break in sadness at the idea of taking a life. His heart was filled with love for everyone around him, and he would do all in his power for the sake of another, even at the cost of what would make him happy. He could've used Minnie's powers as a genie to simply wish his parents home, but after seeing how exhausted each wish made her, he'd refused. He treated her as a person, not an object, not a slave, not as hundreds of thousands as previous masters had done before.

Daisy had no right to even imply Mickey could become anything else than what he was. What did she know? She didn't see his long restless nights when he worried over his parents, and the fake smile he'd wear just to make sure others didn't see his pain. Minnie had seen it, she'd watched him night over night, she wanted to protect him and was powerless to do so. She had endless opportunity waiting in her magic, but she couldn't use it, she was nothing without someone to give her a command, but to Mickey she was everything. He had promised to free her once his parents were saved, and he'd actually meant it.

And Minnie – she wanted to see that moment, see when he was held in the arms of his mother and father. She wanted his happiness, wanted to protect his adorable smile, wanted to wipe away his tears of frustration. She wanted to stay by his side, wanted – wanted - _didn't want her freedom_ – if it meant she couldn't see that face -

Mickey was in the ship's training room, wanting to keep his skills from getting rusty. At the moment he was dueling swords with another member of the crew, laughing with enjoyment at every parry and thrust. He had heard the sudden footsteps but paid them no mind right away, until the thought occurred to him that there was a chance it could be Minnie. He grinned, because if this was his lady fair, he wanted to impress her with a trick or two he'd learned. After pushing away his opponent with the flat side of his blade, he cocked his head to see who slammed the door open.

Minnie stood there, hand on the door, breathless, and when she saw her master – her smiling master, her master of great heroism and noble deeds, who always reached a hand to those in need, who would become a great sultan in his own right – when she saw Mickey – she understood. She loved him.

Minnie choked, and had to slap her hands to her eyes to prevent any tears. Genies were forbidden to cry, for reasons even she had long since forgotten, but this would be truly difficult now that she knew what she'd been trying to deny for ages. She loved him, she loved him so much her heart was fit to burst, and she wanted to be by his side even if she was utterly useless to him. She wanted to protect him the world's horrors, to give him everything his heart desired, but what right did she have? What was she? A mere worthless genie? A used up doll that would be tossed away when she no longer had a purpose to serve?

She was selfish, the true monster waiting, Mickey deserved more than her, and her body wracked with agony. Mickey was clueless about many matters concerning women and romance, but even he could tell something was terribly wrong. “Minnie?” He tossed his sword aside without a second thought, rushing to Minnie with his arms out. “Minnie, what's wrong? Are you hurt? What is it?” Yet each caring question only served to remind Minnie of how unworthy she was of him, and words couldn't reach her tongue.

Mickey scratched his head, trying to puzzle it out. He motioned to the man he'd been practicing with, “Catch with you later, okay?”, and after a nod in return, Mickey put his attentions back on Minnie. He mentally debated with himself before reaching out and picking Minnie up in his arms. She let out a tiny squeak, burying her face into his neck. He savored the feeling for half a second before becoming slightly serious. “If you don't wanna tell me what's wrong, that's all right. Why don'tcha get some rest? Maybe get some snacks. I always feel better on a full stomach.”

Minnie mumbled something that could have been “Thank you” but Mickey wasn't able to tell. He walked on, intending to head for the kitchen first. He knew full well about the “no crying” rule and it had never sat right with him. Everyone needed to cry, it was healthy. He had a feeling that if Minnie was able to cry about whatever was upsetting her now, she'd feel much better afterward. He guessed she was probably keeping a lifetime of tears bottled up inside of her. _Well then!_ He decided in his head, _Once she's free I'm gunna give her a lifetime of tissues to make up for it._

After all, not once had Mickey ever considered the concept that the two of them would be apart once his parents were freed.

~*~

They finally cornered the thief in what appeared to be the final chamber of the cave, which was welcome news to Donald since he was especially exhausted after all this running. He still had a ways to go before he physically caught up with everyone else on the crew. So while everyone was readying themselves for a fight, his hands were on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Someone say something cool, I need a minute.”

Mickey took the initiative, whipping out his sword and pointing at the enemy. “All right, hand over the emerald! There's nowhere for you to run!” Goofy had also taken out his blade, Daisy was rolling up her long sleeves, and Clarabelle and Horace were ready to use their famous “couple killer” moves. Minnie patiently stood by Mickey's side, ready to grant any wish he needed in the upcoming brawl – which she had to admit was probably unnecessary, since it was seven to one. But she also had to admit she wouldn't mind seeing the female thief get hurt a smidgen, because of her past flirtation with her master. Not that she'd ever use the word hussy. But it was a word that existed and words needed to be used and she was getting distracted again.

The thief turned around, her hood having fallen and revealing that her elaborately long black ponytail had grown even further since they'd encountered her last. Minnie cast a quick glance to Mickey to see if he noticed in case maybe he liked girls with longer hair – _not that she cared!_ The woman chuckled darkly, holding up the important jewel for all to see. “The Emerald of Desires...it's said to make all your wishes come true. You think I'd hand it over so easily, when all the world's riches can be at my feet in seconds?”

“I could use that to rescue my parents!” Mickey countered, his grip on the sword tightening. How could anyone be so greedy when they saw someone else suffering? Even if the fate of parents wasn't at stake, this kind of power in the wrong hands could do unspeakable damage to innocent lives. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way!”

“Please vote easy.” Donald groaned, still in pain.

“Besides, look around.” Daisy waved her hands to indicate everyone around her. “You don't stand a chance! This doesn't make for an exciting story, but it'll have to do.”

“True,” the thief admitted without the Cheshire grin ever leaving her face, “But I don't see why I have to skip over an excellent opportunity to see what this baby can do.” The emerald began to flash green, suddenly away to its owners words. “What happens if I desire you all to leave?”

“Oh no you don't!” Mickey jumped forward, intending to knock the emerald from the thief's grasp. Minnie, worried for her master's safety, reached for him, but within seconds everyone was blinded by the emerald's harsh gaze. Minnie shut her eyes, the light having seared into her eyes. She waited to hear the clash of swords and banging of fists, but nothing came.

When she opened her eyes, she gasped – she and Mickey were no longer in the cave's chamber, but now in a room of endless mirrors! “Oooh, that horrid woman did send us away!” Minnie huffed, stamping her feet. There was no sign of the others, and all she could see were the reflections of herself and her oddly calm master.

“Looks like she did.” Mickey said, placing his sword back in its scabbard. “That's a bummer.”

“Oh, I do hope the others are all right.” Minnie squeezed her hands together, trying to find an exit. “If Donald's temper gets the best of him, his anger storms could collapse the whole cave!” She ran up and down the room, trying to find a crack or a hidden passageway, but nothing came to her sight. “And I bet that awful thief is getting away right this second! She is the worst! Why, if I had the power, I'd show her a thing or two, indeed I would!”

Mickey's head slowly cocked to a side, his arms tucked together, and an entertained smile came on his lips. “Aw, you ain't jealous, ain't cha?”

Minnie froze temporarily, her back to Mickey, her fur standing on edge. “J-Jeal-Jeal-Jealous! No! Of course not! The very idea...” Her voice died down an octave, and she twiddled her tiny fingers, pouting. “Just because she's pretty, and tall, and she k-k-kissed you that one time, what's there to be jealous of?” Nothing, absolutely nothing, so why were they talking about it? She slapped her cheeks, trying to focus. “We need to find her right away and get the emerald out of her grubby hands!”

Minne felt Mickey's soft hand touch her shoulder, which was nothing new, and then felt him whisper into her ear, which was very very very new. “Cause you don't gotta be jealous of her. I like you way more than I like you.”

The genie's brain flatlined for a brief couple of seconds. She wasn't sure which was making her tremble more, his breath tickling her ear or the words themselves that held their own precious burden. All she could say at first was an undignified “Huh?” before seeing her ridiculous reflection. _Stop blushing! Stop blushing this instant!_ But seeing her reflection also meant seeing Mickey's reflection, and he was looking at her with a different set of eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of it first, and when she blinked rapidly they didn't change. A word popped into her head – hungry.

Minnie almost smacked her head into the mirror at her own dirty mind. “N-Nevermind all that.” She stammered, quick to wipe her mouth and turn around. “I don't care what you think about her. We need to find the others and think of a way to defeat her! I'm sure if we stay quiet, we can hear Clarabelle and Horace arguing with each other again.”

But she didn't even make it past three steps when Mickey oh so casually grabbed her by the elbow. “What's the rush?”

Minnie stared at him, trying to point in another direction and explain the obvious. It wasn't like Mickey to up an abandon anyone in their hour of need, be they friend or stranger. “Our friends are in danger?”

“They'll be fine, they've been in a ton of scrapes worse than this.” Mickey waved the matter away, and then his palm was flat on her back. “I figure now that we're finally alone, why don't we make the most of our time together?” His eyebrows wiggled, and Minnie found herself shoved in close.

“But-But-But-” Minnie knew exactly why they shouldn't be doing whatever he was implying – because he couldn't be implying _that_ , even if she wanted it, not that she'd ever admit it, it was getting harder to think, why was he looking at her like that – but the words were bouncing on her tongue. She couldn't even look away because all of the mirrors were reflecting the bizarre situation she'd found herself in. Her instruction to stop blushing had clearly flailed as well as now even the tips of her ears were starting to burn. It certainly wasn't helping that she felt the hand on her back start to lower. “W-w-w-we have to catch the thief, and, um, Donald, and, ah, Goofy, and...”

Mickey's fingers curled around Minnie's chin, tilting her quivering lips up toward him. “Y'know, I figure you're a much better kisser than she is.”

Minnie's mouth opened and nothing came out, which was probably for the best because her mind was split in two. _YES I AM - NO I'M NOT - SHUT UP - YOU SHUT UP_ and so on and so forth. There was a time and place for these things, so who would've thought this was one of them? Wasn't there supposed to be a big flowery confession of love before these sort of things happened? Since when was Mickey so ravenous? Come to think of it, he usually turned red if they held hands for longer than five minutes.

As such, Minnie might've figured something bigger was at play if she'd been allowed to think straight for a moment. But Mickey didn't allow that and instead cupped both her cheek in his hand and kissed her so deeply that her heart, mind, and soul exploded all at once. All at once the plight of her friends seemed vastly unimportant, especially compared to Mickey's other hand beginning to freely explore her.

Elsewhere, the real Mickey turned around, blinking twice. “Huh? I could've sworn I heard something.”

“I'm sure it's nothing important, my dear son.” Lady Scheherazade said, she and her husband finally free and reunited with their child. “Besides, there are more important matters to discuss. Such as sharing your legendary tale with all who can hear it!”

Mickey returned his attentions back to his parents, smiling from ear to ear. “Gee, Ma, can't you go one day without tellin' a story?” Of course he jested, for he was more than happy to see his mother and father. The family embraced, each hugging the other as tightly as they could. Who could desire anything more than this?

Donald thought the same thing, finally free of his curse and living a normal life like a real man could. Daisy also thought this, sitting atop a mountain of gold and getting more poured at her feet. The same thought went through Goofy's mind, reunited with his wife and his newborn son, deciding a name for his adorable little boy.

In reality, the group hadn't been moved. They were still in the final chamber, though now they looked very silly as they were trapped in the emerald's illusion. Minnie was rolling on the ground in a phantom lover's embrace, Mickey was hugging air, Donald was skipping around Daisy who was counting rocks, and Goofy was humming a lullaby to nothing in his arms. The thief cackled, rubbing her fingers across the emerald. “So it doesn't give the real wishes... But this'll make for a great escape trick! I can get away with all new thefts n-OW!”

She fell forward, suffering from a kick and punch to the back of her head. Her eyes swam, and she tried to roll over to see who had assaulted her – but who else could it have been except for Horace and Clarabelle? “What?! How did you two not fall under the emerald's spell?”

“Probably cause I don't want for nothin'.” Horace replied coolly, gesturing to his wife with his thumb.

Horace mimicked the gesture back to her husband. “Exactly! We're two halves of a whole, so when we're together, nothin's missin'.”

The thief wondered if that was true, or if maybe they were just too stupid to trick. Both were plausible. But before she could think of a way out of her situation, Clarabelle kicked the emerald out of her hands. “No way that'll help us on our mission, and we can't let anyone get their hands on this!” Satisfied, she stomped on the emerald, shattering it to pieces. The thief groaned, curling up and pouting at her easy loss.

With the emerald destroyed, the illusions vanished, and the group stopped what they were doing. Mickey looked around wildly. “Ma? Pa? Where'd they go?” Donald groaned as he saw a familiar rain cloud pop over his head, Daisy angrily threw the rock in her hand away, which hit Goofy in the forehead. Minnie was choosing not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Sorry, everyone.” Horace called out, hands cupped around his mouth. “Looks like it was one of them illusion spells. Probably gave you whatever you desired most. Another bust!”

Goofy stood up, ignoring the bruise on his head. “That's a shame. These ancient magical artifacts really ought to come with instruction pamphlets!”

“I can't believe I wasted my time on something so useless.” Daisy growled, having to be restrained by Donald before she violently vented her urges on the thief.

While Mickey was disappointed his brief reunion with his loved ones was false, he tried to find the silver lining. “C'mon guys! The important thing is that we're all safe and sound! Another dead end isn't so bad. Besides, seein' my parents again just makes me wanna find them all the more! You gotta keep that in mind! We just have to work toward all the goals we saw!” To find an example of such, he turned to Minnie with a pleasant smile. “Why, I bet I know exactly what Minnie was desiring!”

“What?!” Minnie jumped, sweat breaking out over her face. “N-No you – I wasn't – Nuh-uh!”

“It's written all over your face!” Mickey cheerfully continued, oblivious to the panic he'd set in his genie. “We all know what it is!”

How could they all know when she barely grasped it recently?! “No you don't!” Minnie squeaked, flailing her arms so hard they began to blur at her sides. Genies were immortal and she'd never wished so hard to die until that moment. “It wasn't – I wasn't – I can explain!”

“You dreamt about your freedom, didn'tcha?” Mickey lightly slapped Minnie on the back, confident he had the right answer. Why she was shaking so hard was anybody's guess.

“... Uh. Yes.” Minnie murmured, eyes darting here and there while pressing her pointer fingers together. Thank goodness her master could be such a sweet dunce. “My freedom. Because I'm a genie. So naturally I want my freedom. And absolutely nothing else ever.”

“And we'll work hard to free my parents and grant your freedom!” Mickey announced, turning on his heel to walk. “Let's head back to the ship and set sail for the next adventure!”

Horace grabbed the thief by the hood, dragging her along to the ship with the others in tow – save for Daisy, who had zeroed in on Minnie's agitation. “Freedom, huh?” She asked coyly, poking Minnie's red cheek over and over. 

“Yes. Freedom. Please shut up.”


	7. mickeytaro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick sample of an (eventually) upcoming story, the Japanese tale of Momotaro - Mickey style. Donald and Daisy are saddened by the fact they can't have children, until one day they discover a tiny boy inside a peach and no bigger than a peach pit. While he's raised with love by his "mother", Donald refuses to accept that a boy who never grows could ever be his son. And so Mickey sets off on a quest to change his height, teaming up with Horace, Panchito, and Pluto the pup on the way. His solution may be the Lucky Hammer, a mystical item said to be able to grow and shrink anyone and anything! But the Demon King wants it too, and it may be up to the smallest warrior in the world to stop him!
> 
> ... Buuut this Storybit is just some fun love at first sight silliness while giving the readers a taste of the story.

“You guys sure you'll be all right?” Mickey probably should have asked that before he started climbing the massive tree, but thinking ahead wasn't one of his strong points. He'd only made it up a few inches, and it was going to take some time before he made it all the way up and over the castle walls. Even if he wasn't the size of a peach pit, this would be a long, daunting task. But distracting guards could also be daunting, and there wasn't a hint of hesitation on any of his companion's faces.

“Just leave it to us!” Panchito saluted, with Pluto and Horace copying the motion. “We'll take all the time you need in order to convince the princess to give you the Lucky Hammer! Even if it takes all day and night!”

“Or at least until dinner.” Horace added, his salute now having a smidgen less enthusiasm to it.

“I've already got a plan!” Panchito continued on as if he hadn't heard his companion. “Horace and I shall pretend to be fighting over who Pluto belongs to! We'll cause a ruckus like the kingdom's never seen before! Now go forth, Mickey! And fulfill your destiny!” Eager to aide his friend and even more eager to cause some action, the energetic rooster was leaping heaps and bounds towards the castle entrance.

“Good luck, Mickey.” Horace said with a grin, giving a wave before he left with Pluto, leaving Mickey all on his own to climb the tree. As he watched them begin their bizarre performance, Mickey couldn't help but smile as he resumed his ascension. He felt very lucky to have some loyal and generous friends, and hoped someday he could return all of their kindness. He didn't know how he would, but surely that would come to mind one he was normal-sized. Yes, when he was no longer the size of a peach pit, everything would come easy to him and life would be grand.

It was this one goal that fought through exhaustion as he rose higher and higher on the tree, sweat pouring down his black fur. He wouldn't allow himself to rest, not even for a second, and in time he was rewarded with a view of the castle's interior gardens. Since the branches of the tree only dangled over wall, there was no way to climb down where he wanted. Luckily he spotted a small pond right beneath him, surrounded by grey rocks. Mickey held his breath and jumped – making the tiniest splash imaginable.

Several of the orange and red koi within the pond were greatly startled, unsure if this was a meal or an attacker. Their confusion allowed Mickey to swiftly swim to the surface and climb out, coughing beneath his hand. Now that he was on solid ground again, he was in another pickle – the grass was tall, so tall that he couldn't see where he was going! He'd have to guess which direction the castle was in. Not that he'd let a silly thing like getting lost stop him. Once he squeezed his robes, and his tail, dry he decided the best way forward was in fact going forward.

Fortune smiled upon him, as within seconds he heard two female voices.

“Did you hear that, Princess? I could've sworn I heard something in the pond.” An older woman who stretched out her vowels, a bell clanging every time she spoke.

“It was probably just the koi playing.” Smaller and more feminine, a dainty melody that was gently reprimanding her elder. “You're far too paranoid, Clarabelle. You just want me to go back inside. Can't I at least see my own garden once in a while?”

“Not while the Demon King is out and about! We don't know when or where he'll show up!”

The princess was only a few feet ahead! Maybe the gods were finally giving Mickey a break! He smoothed down his clothes, unsure how to exactly present himself in front of royalty. It wasn't something his mother had taught him, as no one in the family ever thought they'd meet someone so important. With his chest puffed out, he pushed aside the blades of grass ahead of him. The princess was sitting in a clearing where the grass was much shorter, allowing Mickey to get the full view of her.

And that's when Mickey's mind became absolute mush.

He had heard rumors of Princess Minnie's divine beauty, but they sure didn't hold a candle to the real deal! She was a petite figure, with endless black hair rolling at her sides, dark as the purest night, although an attempt at a pink-ribbon bow to control some of it had been made. Since she wasn't in the public eye, her face was free of make-up, though Mickey wouldn't have guessed it. How could such luscious red lips be natural? How could she simply be born with those soft pink cheeks? Then again if anyone took a look at those alluring eyes of hers they might not have any inclination to look at her face – after all, once you saw those stunning blue diamonds, how could possibly look at anything else?

Clothes weren't something of particular importance to Mickey, save for his own due to his height. Yet here he was, admiring the pink kimono with flowers that seemed to flutter with every sigh the princess gave. It was so long and intricate that he couldn't tell where her hands were right away until he spotted the green tea cup she was holding. She was sitting on her knees, a thick blanket spread out underneath her, and she was surrounded by sweets to go with her drink. Yet they lay untouched, her appetite spoiled by Clarabelle's constant worrying.

Not that he could hear the two of them lightly arguing. In fact the entire world had gone deaf in Mickey's ears, and he completely forgot about why he was in the garden in the first place. He probably could stayed in that same spot and watched this enchanting royal, with his mouth in a stupefied smile and his body hanging lopsided oblivious to the world around him. But despite his lovestruck stupor, the world continued to move around him, and Mickey only realized this when a shadow fell over him – Clarabelle's foot, unknowingly about to step on him.

“HEY HEY HEY! Watch it!” Mickey ran out into the clearing, managing to miss death by a millisecond. The females momentarily froze – before Clarabelle let out a scream.

“It's a bug! Ew, ew, ew!” The servant was wearing a yellow kimono of far less expense, a cowbell strung around her neck. She grabbed her robe, trying to avoid the touch of the “bug”.

“Either this bug knows his vocabulary,” Minnie said, placing her cup aside and leaning down to inspect the newcomer. “Or it's not a bug at all...Oh my goodness! It's a person! It's a very little person!”

So much for a grand entrance. Mickey cleared his throat, standing as tall as he could, daring to look Minnie right in the eyes – though given such lovely eyes she had, this was a difficult task. “I-I...I am Mickey, son of Donald and Daisy, and I am here for the Lucky Hammer!”

“A-ha!” Clarabelle got over her fright easily enough, now rolling up her sleeves in anger. “He's working for the Demon King! Don't you worry, princess, I'll get rid of him!”

Wow, this was going much worse than he'd planned – not that he had planned for much. “W-what?! No I'm not!” Indignant, he stomped his foot, demanding to be heard. “I just wanna get taller, that's all! Can you blame me?”

“You can't trust him, Princess! I bet it's a trick! I bet he's here to kidnap you and take you the Demon King!”

Minnie slowly turned her head to give Clarabelle a look of deep skepticism. “And how, exactly, would someone this small kidnap me?” This finally seemed to shut Clarabelle up, at least for the moment. As the cow mulled over what she thought Mickey's true goal was, Minnie faced Mickey again, a warm smile gracing her delicate features. “I apologize for my handmaiden. She tends to think the worst of everyone.” She bowed her head low in retribution, which made Clarabelle's fit even worse.

Mickey felt oddly humbled, and he toed his foot in the ground. “Aw, um, it's all right! Really! I bet everyone's kinda tense what with that Demon King stuff.” He pounded a fist to his chest, determined to convince them both of his somewhat noble intentions. “I swear on all my ancestors, he's no friend of mine! He's just a big bully, and bullies are the worst type of folks! Why, if I ever saw him, you know what'd I do?”

“I honestly have no idea.” Clarabelle muttered, rolling her eyes.

Mickey yanked out his trusty sword – made from a broken tack – and wielded it this way and that. “I might be small, but I don't let nobody get picked on! I'd give him what for! Show him a thing or two!”

Minnie giggled quietly, hiding her mouth behind one of her extra long sleeves. “It warms my heart to know that there are such brave people in my kingdom. I know that one day, because of people like you, he will definitely be defeated.” Once Mickey had returned the sword to his handmade scabbard, she placed her hands in front of him. “You said your name was Mickey? I am Princess Minnie, and this is my handmaiden Clarabelle. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir Mickey.” This came with another proper bow, and Clarabelle reluctantly did the same.

“Nice ta meetcha too.” Mickey chirped, feeling his anxiety lessen with every passing second. For a royal figure, this lady was rather nice. Combine that with her ravishing looks, and no wonder she was rumored to have a thousand suitors vying for her hand, the Demon King included. Once Mickey was of normal height, perhaps he could be one thousand and one. He cleared his throat to try and chase that thought away. “I've traveled far and wide, across mountains and oceans, all the way from my homeland to come and see you.” Wait. “Well, not you, particularly.” Dang it. “I mean, not that it wouldn't be nice to see you, it's very nice, nicest thing I've ever seen.” The anxiety came back in full swing. “...Can I start over?”

Another round of giggles came from the princess. “Here, let me see if I can help. I've always found it better when people can talk eye to eye.” She opened her hands, laying them flat with her palms up. Mickey hesitated, reluctant to dirty her hands with his muddy, wet sandals. He slowly walked onto her hands, and she felt him up to her face – wow, she even smelled nice. He was a goner. “Now then. How can I help you, dear sir Mickey?”

She called him _dear_ – FOCUS. “Um! I, uh, that is...” Another hard shake of the head. “Ever since I was born, I haven't grown a single inch! Betcha it's not gunna take long for you to imagine how hard that makes my life. My own father won't acknowledge me as his son. But I heard tale of your family's most prized possession – the Lucky Hammer that can turn anyone and anything into any size at all! I just need to borrow it so I can be a real man.”

Clarabelle huffed and snorted throughout the story, trying to find a way to disprove it but coming up blank. As for the princess, her smile now turned into a sympathetic frown, her shoulders lowering. “I see...I am sorry for what tragedies may have befallen you, but I'm afraid I can't just hand over the Lucky Hammer.”

“W-well! I'm not sayin' you just gotta give it to me, I only gotta borrow it!” Mickey pleaded, his squeaky voice ringing with desperation.

Minnie sadly shook her head. “I made a promise to the King and Queen that I cannot disclose the location of the hammer nor let anyone use its power until the Demon King has been defeated. Please understand...if it felt into the wrong hands, he would use it to take over the kingdom. I can't break that promise.”

Mickey bit hard on his lower lip. He too knew the power of promises – after all, he'd promised not to return home until he was no longer the size of a peach pit. But to have the hammer so close and yet so far was unfair. No one knew when or if the Demon King would be defeated – no one even knew what he looked like. With each depressing fact, Mickey's body wilted more and more, and Minnie's guilt rose and rose. “Oh, Mickey...I really am sorry. Once the Demon King is defeated, I would be more than happy to help you! I'd hate for you to come all this way for nothing...” She gradually began to rise to her feet, making sure Mickey wouldn't fall over in her hands. “Why don't you stay in the castle tonight?”

“Absolutely not!” Clarabelle interjected with balled fists. “He's an intruder!”

“But it would be terribly rude to send him back after he's traveled so far!” Minnie whined, already turning to the castle doors. “Besides, if I welcome him, he's no longer an intruder. Now he's my honored guest.”

“Oooh – Princess, one of these days, your good intentions are going to get us all killed!”

She had spunk, Mickey had to admire her for that. And it's not like she was a bad person – she just had her own duties to fulfill. Mickey wanted to be mad at her, but honestly couldn't. “Well, your highness, long as you're offerin'...my pals traveled with me. Can they stay over too?”

“Of course!” But now that gave Minnie paused as she began to look around for any other small visitors.

Mickey stifled a laugh. “They're outside, and they're regular sized! There's my dog Pluto, most loyal pup you'll ever meet. Then there's Horace, smarter than ten men put together. And then you got Panchito Pistoles...his real name is longer than then men's put together! You couldn't ask for better friends.”

“Now you've got me eager to meet them, sir Mickey.” With a bemused smile, she lifted her hands to her left shoulder, allowing Mickey to sit there instead. “I've been cooped up in my castle for so long that I've become bored to tears. I would love to hear about all the grand adventures you and your traveling companions have been through.”

“Then you're in luck, 'cause we've got tons of 'em!”


	8. mickeytaro - the proposing plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another addition to my "Mickey-taro" idea that I did before! To repeat, it's a take on the Japanese tale of Momotaro/Peach Boy. Mickey is no bigger than a peach bit, and is on a journey to get the Lucky Hammer, a magical item that can make anyone and anything any size! Along the way he befriends Horace and Panchito who want to aide him on his quest. Things get complicated when the hammer is in the possession of the beautiful Princess Minnie, who refuses to give its location.
> 
> In this storybit, Panchito thinks he may have found a way around that little problem.

Panchito Pistoles was not a braggart, and was often called a humble man. Whenever he did brag, it was almost always about his friends, preferring to highlight the amazing things they'd done. But tonight was a little different – tonight he thought he was rather brilliant, and in the future he planned to tell everyone the story of this success. So far his plan had gone off without a hitch.

Step one, convince the princess.

“Mickey wants to speak to me in private?” Minnie had repeated the request, confused. “What do you mean? He can talk to me anytime he wants. He's a dear friend, you all are.” This conversation had taken place half an hour ago, and her highness had been on her way to her bedroom. As a result she had started to undo some of the pins and ribbons in her long, lovely black hair.

“No no, good lady, this is a _very private_ talk he wants to have.” Panchito lowered his voice to a whisper, hoping to make her understand quickly before he was caught. “Mickey has some special things he wishes to tell you.”

She'd yet to wash off the layers of make-up on her face, yet it was easy to tell the difference between the blush that was from powder, and the blush that came naturally. Minnie reddened and reddened more with every passing second. “Oh, my.” She finally said, eyes cast down demurely. “W-well...I suppose it would be rude to deny him such a request.”

“ _¡Excelente!_ ” Panchito clapped his hands together. “He'll be waiting for you in the gardens in a half hour! Don't keep him waiting!” Although he doubted she would, judging by that shy yet eager smile on her dainty lips. With the step completed, Panchito suddenly raced off to complete the next one. 

Step two, distract the lady-in-waiting.

“I don't see why I gotta do this.” Horace had huffed, crossing his arms and leaning on the hallway wall. This conversation had taken place ten minutes ago, and with every wasted minute Horace was unknowingly threatening to destroy the entire scheme. “Why can't you do it? She's a mean one, that Clarabelle! She's not gunna wanna be seen with me!”

“Oh please,” Panchito interrupted, trying to keep his cool. “I've seen the way she looks at you. It has to be you! Otherwise she'll find out where Minnie is, and the whole thing will be ruined! Don't you care about Mickey's happiness?”

Horace rolled his eyes, but sighed heavily. “Of course I do.”

“And don't you want him to get the Lucky Hammer?”

“Of _course_ I do-”

“Then you find Clarabelle and keep her distracted as long as possible! For the sake of our friend Mickey! _¡Vamonos!_ ” For extra emphasis, Panchito gave a kick to Horace's leg, and the disgruntled horse trotted down the hall to find the equally disgruntled servant. Horace was stubborn, but like Panchito, he'd give anything for Mickey's wish to come true.

Which left step three, which was telling Mickey, which he'd done five minutes ago.

“A plan to get the Lucky Hammer?” Mickey was intrigued but also wary. “Aw c'mon, Panchito, you heard the princess! She can't tell any of us where it is until the Demon King is defeated. No way, no how.”

“Yes way, yes how!” Panchito used his hand so Mickey could hop off of the window he'd been cleaning and ride on to the floor. “Trust me, Mickey, if this works – and it will work! - you will have that hammer in no time! And then you will be normal sized, and your Papa will love you, and all will be well! Just do everything I say, and there's no way you can lose!”

It didn't take long to convince Mickey, who had dreamed of being bigger than a peach pit for all his life. He supposed even if this plan, whatever it was, didn't work out then there would be no harm done. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with Princess Minnie. She was easy to talk to, always keen to hear his stories, and had a heart bigger than any regular-sized person's. He entertained the notion of having feelings for her, but tried to reject that thought soon after – not only was he a mere commoner, but what woman in her right mind would want to have a lover who fit in the palm of her hand? She deserved better.

And so Mickey went to the gardens, although he wondered why Panchito had said to “do everything” as he said if he was going to run away at the last minute. He dismissed it as another one of Panchito's overenthusiastic oddities and walked into the tall grass. Mickey wasn't sure where exactly she wanted to meet up, as a simple garden for her was an entire landscape for him, but as he walked deeper in he found a familiar clearing – the same spot where he first met Princess Minnie. But now it was covered in a thick, silk blanket, a golden candle-holder in the middle holding up two flickering red candles. Petals of various colors had been strewn about.

Mickey was immediately suspicious. 

“Oh my goodness. Did you do all this?” came the sweet voice of the princess, who was now walking into sight. Instead of washing off her make-up and undoing her hair as she was supposed to before going to bed, she'd added on even more touches to her face and her hair was tied up in even more elegant curls. It was as if instead of donning the look a princess should have, she'd gone the extra mile to make sure she was looking as beautiful as she could make herself. She'd made an effort – which made Mickey's heart jump into his throat, until he realized what it was she'd asked.

“Uh,” Mickey struggled in his throat, looking around. “I guess? In a way?” This had to be Panchito's doing, but what the rooster was doing, Mickey couldn't guess.

“It's lovely.” Minnie smiled, sitting down on her knees and smoothing down her flowing robes, this one white with a pattern of red roses stitched on, creating the illusion that the petals were fluttering with every move she made. “I hope you didn't go to too much trouble.”

“It wasn't any trouble at all.” Literally. What was he getting into? “That's, uh, that's a nice kimono you got on. Ain't seen it before.”

“It's for special occasions,” Minnie replied, her eyes timidly turning away for a moment, hiding her lips behind her sleeve. Mickey's mind reeled - special occasion? Why was this a special occasion? Weren't they just there to talk? “I...I was told you have some special things you wanted to tell me.”

“Uhhh.” Mickey stretched the word out as long as he could, trying to decipher whatever was being presented to him. As his eyes bounced all over, he noticed a rustling in a nearby cherry blossom tree. At first, worry seized his body, and he made a motion to grab the needle of a sword on his belt – was it one of the Demon King's minions?

Nope – it was Panchito, who now hung upside down from one the branches, holding up a long piece of paper with hastily written words. **Say “you're so beautiful!”**

Mickey blinked rapidly in honest confusion. “You're...so beautiful?” He said out loud, and it took him half a second to realize what he'd actually said and who he'd actually said it to.

Minnie giggled, oblivious to what was happening in the tree or the panic flowing through Mickey's head. “You're always so sweet, Mickey. I've had so many people give me compliments, but it's... just different coming from you. Like you see me as Minnie, and not just the princess.”

“Oh. Well. Um.” Mickey fumbled, trying not to watch Panchito write something else on a new layer of paper. “I think we'd be friends even if you weren't the princess. You've always been real nice to me.” Okay, so they were complimenting each other. It was nice, but how was this going to get the Lucky Hammer? Minnie wasn't going to reveal its location over idle flattery.

… Right?

“I feel the same way!” Minnie chirped, her enthusiasm growing while she lost some of her proper royal demeanor. “Size, titles, none of it matters. The friendship we have is so much stronger than that. You always know how to cheer me up, and make me feel like a real person.”

Did he really have such an influence over her? Mickey momentarily pushed aside the thoughts of the hammer, more than happy to indulge in this time of sweetness. “I only give as good as I get, Princess! You make me feel teen feet tall! Everyone else always takes pity on me or tries to do things they think I can't do. But you let me try stuff. You let me...” Panchito was finished writing. “Um... You let me...”

Minnie waited patiently for him to finish the sentence, but Panchito had gone on a different tangent. **Say “I want to be with you!”**

Be with her? But he was with her already, they were right there, talking and - 

And then the entire idea of the plan hit Mickey with the force of an exploding mountain. THIS was the plan to get the hammer?! He was supposed to – supposed to – _seduce the princess?!_ Was Panchito out of his mind?!

“Mickey?” Minnie asked gently, lowering her head slightly to get a better look at her companion. “Is everything all right?” The revelation of Panchito's plan had caused Mickey's entire face to go as red as the roses on Minnie's kimono, and his tiny body trembled with great force.

“No!” Mickey shouted, intending to tell Panchito before correcting himself. “I mean, yes! I mean, that is, uh, I, um...” He wanted to make plans to kill the rooster in his sleep, but this matter had to be resolved first. “I don't know what I was thinking.” He struggled to make his voice stern, hoping that he'd make himself clear to Panchito, who was now pointing at the same words over and over in an attempt to make Mickey say them. “I must have been thinking something crazy. I must have hit my head. I was thinking about things that would never, ever happen in a million years.” He finished with a curt glare to Panchito. The rooster stuck his tongue out.

Minnie's body sunk with every negative thought, oblivious to the plan being made and defied all around her. Had Mickey been paying better attention, he might have picked up that Minnie thought of him just as fondly as he thought of her – perhaps even more. It was why Panchito had been so confident of the entire idea in the first place – he'd noticed the wistful gazes Minnie had whenever she looked upon Mickey, the sheer delight in her voice whenever she spoke of him, and the daily excuses she thought up so she could spend more time at his side. But being a princess, and a lady, it was only appropriate for the man to make the first move, so to speak.

Which wasn't all that helpful when the man in question had a mixture of self-loathing and obliviousness.

So in this moment when Minnie believed Mickey was giving up on telling her how he truly felt about her – which was what she had desperately hoped was the special thing he wanted to say – her heart felt as it'd begun to rip in two. Yet one of the things that had won Mickey over was that she didn't take things laying down. She fought, as she fought now. “I want to hear it!”

“Huh?” Mickey had been so caught up in telling Panchito off he'd forgotten Minnie was part of this. “Hear what?”

“I want to hear what you were thinking.” Minnie placed her palms on the ground, lowering her head as much as her body was able. “I promise you, I'll listen to everything you have to say. You can trust me! Can't you?”

“O-Of course I can trust you!” Mickey stuttered, but to his relief Panchito appeared to have given up on that one train of thought, as he'd tossed the paper aside and was writing something else. “Princess, I'd trust you with anythin'! But, well, there's just...somethin' weird goin' on, and...” Panchito was finished. Maybe, Mickey prayed, this was something far more reasonable.

**Say “I love you!”**

Panchito was a dead man. “...And some people have rocks for brains.”

“Mickey, please don't say that about yourself!” Minnie cupped her hands, which was the usual signal that meant Mickey was allowed to walk onto them.

“I wasn't.” Mickey muttered under his breath, seeing Panchito now writing something else.

“You're not dumb at all!” Minnie insisted, lifting Mickey up so they were closer together. “You've always been very clever! You always find your own way to fix things! I'd say you're smarter than every man in Japan put together!”

Mickey would have been immensely flattered by such words, but Panchito kept distracting him. Now the rooster was flinging several papers in a row, each suggestion worst than the last. Mickey could only hope his eyes were getting the message across.

**Say “I wish I could take you into my arms!”**   
_No!_   
**Say “I wish I could kiss you lips!”**   
_NO!_   
**Say “I wish I could be at your side forever!”**   
_PANCHITO PISTOLES FOR THE LOVE OF -_

“I wish you could be at my side forever.”

“I AIN'T SAYIN' – what?” Hold on a second, that last one had been said out loud. Mickey abruptly paused, looking back at Minnie's face. His ears were big for his body, little for anyone else's, but they worked very well. He was certain she'd said something.

“If your father won't accept you,” Minnie was saying, her voice now as soft as the evening wind, one of the ribbons coming undone in her hair. “And you can't go back home...You...you can stay here forever, with me.” She wished she could hide as she said this, but if Mickey wasn't going to make any moves, then it was up to her, no matter how embarrassing it got. “I know your size makes you so unhappy...but I'll do all in my power, every single day, to make you happy. I'll make up for all the happiness you ever deserved in life, and for the rest of our lives. If you'd allow me...I want to take care of you.” She closed her eyes, as if worn out by expressing her deepest desires.

Mickey was tempted to pinch his arm to see if this was a dream, but he convinced himself that if this was a dream, Panchito wouldn't have been it, especially not obnoxiously giving two thumbs up. Mickey's heart pounded in his chest, a hard drumming that he would've believed the entire kingdom could hear. There was no way Panchito's ridiculous idea had worked – so, somehow, someway, he must have stolen her heart before this night happened. How he did it, Mickey couldn't fathom or guess. Around Minnie he was simply Mickey – nothing more and nothing less.

And to be honest, he hadn't a clue about his future. He had refused to go home until he was of normal size, and if he wouldn't ever be normal sized, then where was he to go until the end of his days? A lump formed in Mickey's throat. He missed his parents deeply – but he also loved Minnie deeply. The offer was more than tempting. He couldn't possibly give her what she deserved, yet she didn't care. It was a strange sort of happy mindboggling.

If he had nothing to lose anymore, then, well, why not?

“I like you.” Mickey blurted out, and regretted it only because of how childish it sounded. One didn't answer a potential marriage proposal with “like”. It was just the first words that popped into his head and had the power to leave his mouth. “I like you a lot.” As if that was any better! Then again, it wasn't as if he'd ever practiced or rehearsed for such a moment, since said moment had always bordered on the impossible in his mind. “You don't really...have to worry about all that happiness stuff. I'm happy enough when we're...together, y'know? Just being around you makes everything all better. So, you just be you, and I'll just be me. Like we've always done.”

It wasn't a wholly definitive answer, but they were both still young, and Minnie accepted he would need time to think it over. For now, she was greatly pleased by what she had heard. She lifted her hands up and kissed Mickey atop his head – it couldn't be said if her lips had knocked him over, or if Mickey was so struck with lovesick stupor that he fell onto his back. Either way, Minnie giggled, and Panchito believed his plan to be a surefire success.

And, for the record, Horace and Clarabelle had a very nice time together as well.


End file.
